Vortex
by resourceful
Summary: Two months into their secret marriage, wedded bliss still eludes Lee and Amanda. Conflict at home and foes at work and overseas suck the entire Stetson/King family into turmoil that threatens the sanctity of Lee and Amanda's marital vows and the survival of the family.
1. Chapter 1

**Timeline:** Post Season Four - April to July 1987

 **Disclaimer:** Scarecrow and Mrs. King is the property of Warner Brothers and Shoot-the-Moon Productions. I will make no profit from the story.

 **Credits:** Includes references to episodes - "The First Time," by Eugenie Ross-Leming & Brad Buckner, "The Times They Are a Changing," by Mark Lisson & Bill Froehlich, "Playing Possum," by Rudolph Borchert, "Over the Limit" by Tom Ropelewski, "Tail of the Dancing Weasel" by George Geiger, "Utopia Now" by Robert Bielak, "The Wrong Way Home" by George Geiger, "Wrong Number" by David Brown. "Stemwinder" by Robert W. Gilmer & George Geiger, "Mission of Gold" by Lynne Kelsey.

 **Summary:** Two months into their secret marriage, wedded bliss still eludes Lee and Amanda. Conflict on the home front and foes at work and overseas suck the entire Stetson-King family into turmoil that threatens the sanctity of the Stetsons' marital vows and the survival of the family.

 **Author's Notes:** Many thanks to my beta, Anne, for sharing her creative talents and valuable insights throughout the writing of this story.

I haven't written for the fandom since 2014, so I'm out of the loop and need to catch up with the group. My story has 16 chapters. I plan to post them individually over the course of the next few weeks.

 **Reference:** The Soviet Union's massive bugging operation of the United States Embassy in Moscow was an historical event that happened during the 1980s.

* * *

 **Prologue: Late April 1987 – Exiled  
**

Swirling soot belched from tall smokestacks as the lone figure leaned into the biting wind and trudged through the dreary streets of Moscow. With one last draw on his cigarette, he flicked the butt into the gutter and ground the glowing remnant beneath the steel toe of his grimy work boot. Then surveying his surroundings, he raised the collar of his navy pea coat and pulled a woolen cap over his smarting ears. Cold—it was so cold. Evidence of springtime had yet to arrive in the God-forsaken place behind the Iron Curtain.

Stuffing his chapped hands into the jacket's flannel pockets, Lee Stetson pressed on through dense smog toward the ugly Communist high rises. Tonight, like every night, he would cloister himself in a shabby apartment, toil with unreliable plumbing and electricity, and curse the toxic water that flowed from the kitchen tap.

Like it or not, this was his personal hell for now. Viktor Ivankov was his new alias, and he was now known as an unmarried, hard-drinking, cigarette-smoking, skilled laborer. Lee's cover alleged he was born in Moscow and bred in Detroit, Michigan before returning to Mother Russia. With ties to two countries, he claimed dual citizenship. His official papers stated he was an electrician and an employee at the United States Embassy in Moscow.

What his credentials didn't do was identify him as an American spy, responsible for investigating the embassy's electronic bugs and the technological geniuses who masterminded the most massive, sophisticated bugging operation in history. With secrets changing hands and individuals changing sides, it was nearly impossible to discern who was completely loyal to the United States.

Despite the endless demands of his new assignment, Lee knew he fit the role perfectly. His guardian uncle had prepared him well. "Skip, I want you to learn foreign languages, especially Russian," Colonel Robert Clayton had insisted. "Master the skills of a manual laborer and cultivate the decorum of a polished officer. Broad and diverse knowledge will serve you well if you follow your ancestral path into the military."

The pull to join the armed forces was embedded deep in his DNA. Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines-all had their appeal, but he was tapped for espionage by Harry V. Thornton and his elite covert agency. For nearly fifteen years, in every remote corner of the world, he'd busted his butt for the United States of America. And where had it gotten him? Surely not "Administrative One" as his boss had aspired for him. No, he was born for field service, not a desk jockey job with an exclusive club membership and a fancy home in an elite suburb.

Up until recently, Lee had been fulfilled as a field agent—but not anymore. Now, the price was just too high, especially when a nursery rhyme spouting fruitcake became the Agency director and shipped him off behind the Iron Curtain. In truth, Dr. Austin Smyth never wanted Lee to return to Washington D.C. Instead he'd entrapped his prize agent in Moscow with a mission that could prove impossible to fulfill. Scarecrow could be stuck with his present cover and assignment for years. Maybe for the rest of his life.

Dr. Smyth had thrust the case upon him with little notice. There had been no time for a proper farewell to his new bride and no time for mending fences with his new family, especially Jamie, his reluctant step-son. Hell, there had been no opportunity to even tell the King boys they had a stepfather.

All he'd held onto was the angry reprimand of a twelve-year-old and the desperate call of his wife's voice as he abruptly abandoned her in a mob of people. God, if only he'd realized that heated words could be final testimonies, and sudden good-byes could be the last chance to embrace loved ones. Didn't the death of his parents and his lonely childhood teach him anything about the fragility of life?

When he'd last exited Amanda's white Cape Cod home, he'd been consumed by a fit of rage and was completely oblivious to the universal truth about relatives. Whether acquired by blood, choice, or the luck of the draw, family was sacred. No matter how exasperating the attitudes of a quirky mix of individuals, he needed to cut them some slack and focus on their positive qualities. If another opportunity ever presented itself, he would treasure a holiday gathering shared by a mismatched tribe of prickly kinfolk.

He'd learned a cruel lesson the hard way. Family friction may be distressing, but it sure as hell beat his present banishment behind the Soviet Union's Iron Curtain.

Lee's chest tightened with repressed grief. His professional career, like his private life, had been sucked into a vortex, completely beyond his control. What if he never saw his family again or held his beautiful wife? "Amanda," he spoke aloud, his voice choking as he whispered her name like a love sonnet. "My Amanda."

* * *

 **Chapter One: Flashback to Easter Sunday – Early April 1987**

Bright sunlight streamed through sheer curtains as five adults and two adolescents crowded the tight confines of the diminutive Cape Cod dining room. The atmosphere was jovial, save for one disconcerted participant—the reluctant newbie to the King household. Trapped in the midst of wagging tongues, inane niceties, and competing aromas of banquet cuisine, Lee bravely soldiered through the foreign territory of an Easter family gathering.

Mindful of a slight twinge of claustrophobia, he cautiously eased his tall frame between the feast-laden sideboard and the gaily decorated table enshroud with lace, fine china, and daffodils. In hopes of calming his ragged breathing, he struggled to loosen his necktie. As his nervous fingers tugged at the knot, he wondered what the hell he was doing in a suit and tie and having breakfast at the ungodly hour of 10:00 on a Sunday morning.

Against his better judgement, he'd succumbed to Amanda's request that he attend the Easter Sunrise Service and the West/King Easter Brunch. Despite the fact that everyone was still clueless about their secret marriage, his wife wanted him to participate in their annual celebration.

With fits and starts, Lee was slowly being accepted as a regular fixture in Amanda's family. At least some of them were embracing him as Amanda's "gentleman friend." However, there were still stubborn holdouts. His wife's youngest son, Jamie, became curt and withdrawn whenever Lee entered his domain. And certainly no surprise, Amanda's ex-husband seemed a bit perturbed when her purported "love interest" shared his space during holidays. However, to the guy's credit, Joe King was usually polite and affable, so, for his part, Lee tried hard to perfect his "easy-going" charade.

Only two months into their clandestine marriage, Lee found his status as 'frequent visitor' in the King home comparable to that of the lowly rank of 'civilian auxiliary' at his ultra-elite intelligence agency. If and when he was recognized as 'second husband and stepparent,' the official titles would probably award him more stigma than favor.

Whatever level of family hierarchy he eventually achieved, for now the pretense of being Amanda's suitor relegated him to the bottom of the pecking order heap. At least he could silently commiserate with Joe's new wife. When the former Mr. & Mrs. King absentmindedly addressed each other as "sweetheart," Carrie would shoot him a sympathetic look as she schooled her face into a mask of indifference.

For the sake of the boys, Lee hated to complain. Certainly the ideal scenario for divorced couples was an amicable split. However, from his perspective, the lasting friendship between the ex-spouses crowded the field. The newcomer rank forced him to take a back seat to their co-parenting arrangement. He also had to swallow the bitter pill of jealousy whenever Amanda shared a chaste kiss with Joe upon his arrivals and departures.

Feeling a splitting headache taking hold, Lee desperately sought to hasten an end to the festivities. Breezing by the array of culinary delights, he tried to ignore the royal banquet. In a useless attempt to hide his impatience, he made a silent vow to flee the premises at the first opportunity. In his mind, a morning brunch still constituted breakfast, a meal he detested like the plague.

"Here, Sweetheart," Amanda said, as she speared a slice of ham and dropped it on his plate. Before he could protest, she added an omelet, followed by a mysterious creamy concoction. "You don't want to miss out on Mother's baked ham, spicy omelet, and scalloped potatoes." Her pointed look reminded him to honor the hostess by partaking of her labor of love. No doubt, Dotty West had toiled for days to prepare the spread, so he was obliged to reward her efforts with a hearty appetite.

Lee's stomach lurched at the mere sight of the cheesy blend already spreading over the plate and mingling with the ham and eggs. "A-man-da," he quietly gritted between clenched teeth. "It's too early in the day for me to have anything but a stale roll and a cup of coffee."

"Please, Lee," Dotty interrupted as she suddenly materialized at his side. "At least try a 'no thank you, helping'. You may actually cultivate a taste for eating more than twice a day."

"Good luck reforming my dietary habits," Lee said as he flashed a wide dimpled grin that never failed to disarm his mother-in-law. Even though she was in the dark about his real place in the family, Dotty already treated him like a chosen son.

Despite her good intentions, he felt like a hostage. Resigning himself to the ordeal, Lee took his place around the dining room table. Seated between Phillip and Amanda, he felt the friendly nudge of the oldest King boy. "Here, Dude," the fourteen-year-old said with a mouthful. "Have a hot-cross bun. The icing is terrific."

"Thanks, Chief." Lee accepted the pastry and affectionately elbowed Phillip in the ribs. "You're my kind of guy."

From across the table, the sullen Jamie pushed his enormous eye glasses against the bridge of his nose and glared at his brother. "You two deserve each other," he mumbled in a stage whisper.

Lee winced at the comment. Clearly the youngest boy resented the ease with which his socially adept sibling engaged their guest. Lee sighed, wondering how he could connect with Jamie. If only the kid knew that years ago little Lee Stetson was just as shy and irritable when faced with new situations and strange people in his life.

With wrinkled brow, Joe watched the exchange from the head of the table. Quickly hiding any discomfiture, he recovered his smile and stretched out his hands to his sons seated on his left and right. "I know you guys are passed the age of Easter baskets and baby bunnies, but your mom and I wanted to give you something special for the holidays."

"Great," they cheered in tandem.

Joe reached into his suitcoat pocket and pulled out some pamphlets. "Take a gander at these, boys," he said as he deposited a fistful of glossy brochures on the table.

Phillip grabbed a leaflet and quickly scanned the offering. "Wow, a West Virginia wilderness adventure. Thanks, Mom and Dad."

Lee shot Amanda a questioning look as he reached for a tri-fold pamphlet. Sharing the picturesque brochure with her, he wondered how he'd missed the memo. "You're going whitewater rafting?" he asked with a touch of skepticism peppering his words.

Amanda shook her head. "Rafting? This is news to me," she whispered against his ear. Then catching the eye of her ex-spouse, she confronted his unilateral choice. "Joe, I don't remember any discussions about a wilderness trip."

Her former husband blew out a breath as Carrie cringed. Shooting his new bride a placating smile, he tried to make amends. "Ah, sorry, guys, I'm afraid I misled you. The trip is from your step-mom and me. Carrie and I want to take you two on a journey through the West Virginia wilderness."

"Now, Joe, that's not our full intent," Carrie replied with a hint of rebuke. "We planned to include the entire family."

"Well, of course, they're welcome to join us, too," Joe said in an effort to dig himself out of the gaping hole he'd dug. "Actually, Amanda, I'm a little concerned about your health. After all, you're still recovering from a life-threatening injury. Maybe you should skip this trip."

"Don't go there, Joe," Amanda said as a flicker of annoyance flashed in her eyes. "I'm perfectly fine, so please don't treat me like an invalid."

"Amanda, dear," Dotty injected with a noble attempt at peacemaking. "Joe is only thinking about your best interests."

"I know he is. I guess I'm just a little defensive right now. Forgive me, Sweetheart," she said with a tight smile for Joe that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Tension radiated around the table, so everyone hastily retreated to their food.

Lee silently concurred with Joe, but he managed to keep his mouth firmly shut. No way did he want Amanda tackling a wilderness adventure. Even though she'd returned to active duty at the Agency, there was still lingering fatigue and pain leftover from the grievous gunshot wound she suffered in California. And, too, Carrie wasn't the only new bride in the family. Why would Amanda want to leave her bridegroom behind so she could vacation with her ex-husband? My God, the newly eloped Mr. and Mrs. Stetson could use some real privacy, especially since they'd sacrificed a honeymoon when they innocently drove into the midst of a shooting.

"Hey," Phillip said as his boisterous voice shattered the silence. "What about inviting Lee? He's practically family, too."

"No he's not," Jamie said in a voice thick with venom. His glaring social faux pas left everyone slack-jawed.

"Jamie!" Dotty and Amanda admonished in one accord. "Apologize."

"Sorry," the kid said with the barest minimum of regret.

Lee shook off the wounding words that stabbed him to the core. Masterfully he hid his bruised feelings and answered his stepson in an even tone. "No problem, Jamie," he said gently. "I'm too busy at work to take anymore vacation time."

Joe put his arm around his son and came to the kid's defense. "I'm sure Jamie didn't intend any hurt feelings, Lee. If you had a family, you'd understand how kids protect their own turf."

"Yeah, maybe so," Lee said, forcing the words to roll off his tongue in a conciliatory manner.

Amanda's right hand found a resting place on his thigh. Conveying her empathy to Lee, she addressed Joe with measured words. "When do you plan to take the trip?"

Carrie picked up the thread of conversation. "April seems a little cold for camping and whitewater rafting, so we thought it best to wait until June when school ends for the summer."

"Good idea," Amanda agreed, letting the matter of her invitation drop for now.

As the group retreated into uneasy silence, Lee saw an opening to lighten the mood. Maybe he should take the high road and rekindle the boys' initial enthusiasm.

"Phillip and Jamie are at the perfect age for wilderness camping and whitewater rafting," he said, testing the waters. "When I was thirteen, my uncle's Air Force friend took me rafting in the Grand Canyon. Barney taught me outdoor skills when I needed an exciting challenge in my life."

Amanda squeezed his hand encouraging his train of thought. "I'm sure you desired a change from the Colonel's regimented military life."

"You're not kidding," Lee said as he stroked Amanda's fingers hidden from view under the long tablecloth.

Apparently grateful for a show of support, Joe perked up. "I'm sure your rafting trip was an educational experience."

"You bet. I not only saw some incredible scenery, I learned all about the explorer John Wesley Powell.

"Who's he?" Phillip asked.

"Powell was a soldier, scientist, and explorer who led an expedition on the Colorado River."

Phillip shrugged. "Did he fight in a war?"

"He fought for the Union Army during the Civil War. Powell was seriously wounded at the battle of Shiloh and had his right arm amputated."

Jamie leaned closer, following the conversation with rapt attention. "You said he was a scientist, too," he added shyly.

"That's right. Powell spent much of his youth rafting on the Mississippi River and its tributaries in the upper Midwest. From an early age he had a deep interest in all natural phenomenon, so he took every opportunity to go rafting. The trips enabled him to study botany, zoology, and geology without the aid of a teacher. In adulthood, he became a professor of geology and the curator of the Illinois Natural Museum of History. "

"Cool," Jamie said.

Lee smiled to himself. At least he'd managed to engage the kid on a subject that mattered to him.

Even Joe warmed up to the topic. "So, what took John Wesley Powell to the Grand Canyon?"

"During scientific field trips out west, Powell began to formulate his idea for exploring the Grand Canyon on the Colorado River."

"Jeez, with only one arm," Phillip said was amazement. "How did an amputee manage a rafting expedition?"

"He didn't go alone, Chief. Powell recruited nine men. In 1869, they headed down the Green River in Wyoming to the Colorado River. Onlookers thought they were crazy and assumed they'd never see the men again."

Intrigued, Jamie's curiosity overcame his usual bashfulness. "Did they make it?"

"Not all of them. The wild rapids scared four of the men enough to make them leave the expedition. They tried to walk out of the wilderness, but only one made it. Three of them were probably killed by Native Americans when they inadvertently trespassed on sacred grounds."

"What about the others?"

"Three months and nearly a thousand miles later, five of the original company, plus their one-armed leader emerged from the depths of the Grand Canyon at the mouth of the Virgin River. The Powell expedition named many of the landmarks and geological features along the Green and Colorado Rivers".

"Wow," the boys said in tandem.

"Wow, indeed," Dotty added with her typical sarcasm. "Let's hope your rafting trip is a lot less exciting than the one John Wesley Powell took on the Colorado River."

"You're going aren't you, Dotty?" Joe asked hopefully. "It won't feel like a family trip without you."

"Well, I would have considered going if you'd invited my flyboy beau, Curt," Dotty said with an innocent smile that fooled no one. "However, since Curt isn't actually family, I won't even entertain the possibility." Her pointed look at Joe and Jamie perfectly conveyed her underlying annoyance with the twosome.

Lee feigned indifference. My God, Dotty couldn't be any clearer if she emptied a pitcher of cold water over her ex-son-in-law's head.

Joe coughed to cover his discomfiture. "Well, ah, Dotty, I'm sure we can work things out for you. After all, you're the boys' grandmother."

"Don't bother, dear," she said with a firm shake of her blonde head. "I wouldn't want you to change your definition of family in order to make an exception for me. And, unlike my young adult years, I'm no longer a fan of thrill sports."

"Neither am I," Joe said with a sheepish look. "Believe me, we won't be tackling anything higher than Class 2 rapids."

"Well, that's a relief," Dotty replied. "At least you're using some good sense."

"Jeez," Phillip complained. "Class 1 and 2 rapids are for babies."

Lee placed an arm around the boy's shoulders. "Class 3 rapids are apt to have high waves, narrow passages, and difficult drops. If you're using a paddle raft, the maneuvering requires all of you to be skilled at paddling."

"Well, I'm not a beginner," Phillip huffed. Shooting a mocking glare at Jamie, he lorded his superiority over his younger, less experienced brother.

Jamie returned a scathing look and kicked his foot under the table, connecting with Lee's shin instead of Phillip's leg.

"Ouch," Lee mumbled as he leaned down to rub his smarting appendage.

Joe was oblivious to his sons' escalating sibling rivalry. "Let's wait and see how the rafting goes. Maybe Class 3 will be appropriate if we get the hang of the river after the first day or two."

The oldest boy groaned. "If we don't run Class 3 rapids, the whole trip will be one big yawn."

"Believe me, Phillip, you'll be too busy to get bored," Lee said, once again inserting words of caution. "Everyone will have to be ready for the unexpected."

Joe leveled his gaze directly at Lee. "I can assure you, Carrie and I have studied all aspects of the subject. We'll engage an experienced guide and take every precaution. In fact, we have the option of using an oar assisted paddle raft. The guide can do the majority of the steering from the back while the rest of us do some of the paddling."

"Sounds like a good plan." Amanda breathed a sigh of relief as she pressed her fingers into Lee's forearm. "We appreciate your research and organizational skills, Joe."

"Yeah," Lee concurred, with scarcely enough enthusiasm to sound sincere.

Turning again toward the West matriarch, Joe offered another plea. "Please, go with us."

Waving her hand in dismissal, Dotty stood by her decision. "It doesn't matter if the rapids are mild or ferocious. I have no desire to sit in a bouncing inflatable boat and subject myself to a very wet roller coaster ride."

 **TBC:**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two – Easter Sunday Night  
**

Amanda sat on the edge of the bed applying lotion to her legs as she contemplated the testy dynamics of her family during the long, unsatisfying day. Easter was meant to be a time of rejoicing, but this year the holy day spiraled down into mean confrontations and hurt feelings.

Lee had excused himself early in the afternoon, saying he was going home to his apartment to sleep off a migraine. Then retreating to the foyer, he'd barely spared her a hasty kiss on the forehead and a few curt words. "See you tomorrow," he'd murmured before escaping to his Corvette. To make matters worse, Joe and Carrie had overstayed their welcome, making it impossible for Amanda to pursue Lee. While she'd contemplated abandoning her guests, she didn't feel right leaving her mother to labor in the kitchen with the lion's share of the clean-up.

Instead she convinced herself that Lee needed time to nurse his wounds before he was ready to talk about the family friction directed at him. However, hours later, he was still in isolation mode, refusing to answer the phone when she attempted to call him.

A painful sigh escaped her lips as she set the lotion bottle on the nightstand. Reaching to turn out the light, she heard a slight knock on her bedroom door. "Come in," she called, already guessing who was there. Drawing her legs under the covers, she braced for another dicey encounter.

A dark blond head peered around the opening. "Hi, Mom," Jamie said as he paused to size up his mother's mood. "Sorry I wouldn't talk to you earlier, but I'm willing to try now."

"Sweetheart, it's very late, but we do need to clear up a few matters before going to sleep." Patting the mattress, she watched as her pajama clad son cautiously approached her side.

Climbing onto the brass bed, Jamie situated himself at her feet. Then pulling his knees up, he hugged them close to his chest, insulating himself in a protective cocoon. "I know you're pretty angry about the way I treated Lee today."

She smiled faintly, wishing he was still the little fella who crawled into her bed at night, snuggled close, and confessed his worries. Instead, she met the eyes of a brooding preteen. 'Patience,' Amanda reminded herself as she prepared to address her son.

"Jamie, I'm not just angry, I'm disappointed in your behavior. Lee doesn't deserve to be the target of your unhappiness." Watching him hang his head against his chest, Amanda heaved a big sigh as she waited for a response that didn't come. Her arms ached to hold him, but his body language warned her to stay away. That was the problem in a nutshell. Jamie was on the cusp of adolescence, and he was entering the contentious "cave years" so typical of teenage males. The long talks and frequent hugs and kisses they'd shared for a dozen years would now be fewer and far between.

Amanda didn't need a manual on parenting teenagers to explain the larger problem. Her sensitive boy wasn't just confused about Lee, he was confused about life in general. Wasn't it enough that he had to accept a new stepmother, without also blindsiding him with a stepfather? She couldn't very well announce, 'oh, by the way, Lee and I got married last February.' For her son's sake and the sanity of the whole family, they'd need to continue concealing their marriage and be less demonstrative in the boys' presence. And, too, if their marital union had to be kept secret at the Agency, then it needed to stay a secret at home.

"Jamie," she finally pleaded. "Talk to me."

The boy raised his head, just enough to reveal his contemptuous scowl. "Mom, I don't like Lee," he said in a belligerent tone of voice. "I don't think I can ever like the guy."

"Of course, you can. Lee cares about you and wants to be your friend."

"No he doesn't. He wants to be Phillip's friend – just like every other person we know."

Amanda shook her head at their impasse. While wanting to deny his perception, she was fully aware that Jamie had lived in the shadow of his gregarious brother since he'd entered middle school. Even though the teachers praised the younger boy's excellent grades, the students gravitated toward Phillip - the joke cracking, easy going, all-around jock. Her two sons were polar opposites when it came to their talents and interests? Stretching out her arm, she waited until Jamie hesitantly took her hand. "Listen, young man, if you give Lee half a chance, you'll find he's very similar to you in many ways."

"Well, I already know we're both interested in photography."

"And, it was very nice of Lee to give you a camera. I thought you appreciated the present."

"I do, but it's just a secondhand gift; the camera is old and not something we actually enjoy together. He gave Phillip a new basketball, and the two of them are outside shooting hoops all the time."

Amanda cringed at the comment. Her husband fully intended to set up a dark room for Jamie, but hadn't found the time yet. "I'm sure Lee wants to do special things with you, too."

"Yeah, right. Mr. Charm is the typical jock who wants to be the center of attention and show off his athletic skills."

"Sweetheart, you underestimate the man and need to take a closer look. Lee is much more than a typical athlete. Behind his public persona, he is basically a shy and sensitive person. He cares deeply and suffers hurt feelings when rejected- just like you."

Jamie appeared skeptical. "The man sure hides it well. My comments seem to roll off his back."

"Believe me, he's had more than thirty years to perfect the art of concealing hurts. You know Lee's parents died when he was little, and he had to be raised by a stern uncle - a bachelor, career military officer."

"Yeah, so you've told me several times." Shrugging, the boy masked his own feelings. "So, big deal, his shyness doesn't mean he's anything like me."

"It's more than shyness," Amanda said with a hint of annoyance in her words. "Like you, Lee loves to read, and he's an avid history buff. Whether you were aware of it or not, I saw you perk up when he talked about the scientist and explorer, John Wesley Powell."

Jamie shrugged. "It was better to listen to a history lesson than hear everyone argue over Dad's whitewater rafting trip. I don't want to go anyway."

"Really? You seemed pretty excited."

"Yeah, maybe at first, but after I thought about the trip, I realized it would be one more way I can't measure up to Phillip." Leaving his perch, the boy stretched out beside his mother. Taking his glasses off, he fiddled with the stems while he continued his rationale. "Danger is a thrill for Phillip, but I'm afraid of the rapids. It's bad enough that my own family knows I'm a wimp, without having Lee there to see it, too."

Amanda recoiled at the word "wimp". She hated to hear her youngest define himself by such a term. "Jamie, being afraid of danger doesn't make you a coward. Being cautious can be a good thing. Phillip throws caution to the wind and gets himself into trouble more often than not."

The boy's brown eyes begged her to understand. "Please, Mom, don't invite Lee to join us. Cruel or not, I don't want him there to complicate the whole experience. Can't we enjoy the trip as a family, just you, Dad, Phillip, and me?"

"And Carrie," Amanda reminded him. "She may be new to the family, but she's definitely an official member of the clan."

"Don't bug me about her," he groaned. "No one ever asked how I felt about Dad marrying again, but if you really want to know, I'll tell you."

"All right," Amanda said as she tensed for the backlash. "Tell me."

"I think it sucks. With Dad back from Africa, we were finally doing things as a family again, like we did when Phillip and I were little."

Amanda winced at Jamie's idealistic expectation. "Sweetheart, your Dad and I divorced long before he left his humanitarian work. We can never be the family you remember."

"Maybe not, but we all get along and have fun when it's just the four of us. We don't need anybody else except Grandma."

"Jamie, life never remains static. We all change and move on. That means accepting new situations and new relationships. Dad needs Carrie in his life, just like I need Lee."

"Yeah, but who needs Phillip and me?" The boy glared as he clenched his jaw in defiance. "It doesn't seem to matter what we think or feel. I bet you can't wait until we're grown and gone."

"Sweetheart, you know better than that."

"No I don't." Abruptly, Jamie rolled himself off the bed and scrambled to his feet. Hurrying toward the door, he paused for one more parting shot. "It's not like Lee is my stepdad, and if you care about my feelings, he never will be."

* * *

 **The Midnight Rambler:**

Long after the family retired to bed, Dotty stood in the kitchen concocting her nighttime sleep potion. Just as she topped off her glass of milk with a splash of Galliano, she heard a key in the lock. Suddenly, the backdoor swung open, and there stood Lee Stetson looking as alarmed as she felt.

"Sorry, Dotty," he said, obviously embarrassed to be caught red-handed. "I saw the light and thought Amanda was still up, so I just let myself in."

Dotty removed her hand from her rapidly beating heart and pulled the sash on her bathrobe a little tighter. "Hello, Lee, I see my daughter gave you a key?"

"Yeah, she did." Sheepishly he slid the object of their attention into his pocket. "Amanda wanted me to have it for emergencies."

Repressing a laugh, Dotty registered the disheveled appearance of the usually debonair man. With faded jeans, a rumpled shirt, and sockless sneakers, he'd definitely retreated to comfort mode. "So tonight is considered an emergency?"

"Well, you know," he stammered. "Considering the tension here today and my leaving in a rush, I thought maybe I should talk things over with your daughter."

Employing mild confrontation, Dotty pinned him in place with an accusative gaze. "Lee, darling, she went to bed an hour ago. And, I must say, Amanda wasn't very happy. She tried calling, but you never answered your phone."

"Yeah, the blame is all mine." Running nervous fingers through his hair, Lee struggled to deflect Dotty's gentle reprimand. "I just wasn't ready yet . . . you know . . . to rehash the whole day."

Dotty relented and nodded in understanding. "I must apologize for my family. The behavior around the table was inexcusable. Even I threw in some zingers that had no redeeming purpose."

Lee ventured a small smile. "Hey, don't beat yourself up; you were in my corner and that meant a lot to me."

"And so was my daughter, even if she didn't take Joe and Jamie to task in front of the group. However, I noticed Amanda reassured you in her own special way. By all appearances, you two have your own secret code."

"You noticed, huh?"

"Yes, Amanda's subtle gestures didn't escape my keen observation skills," Dotty teased. "A little hand-holding and whispering in the ear can calm even the worst tempers. By keeping your cool, you two pulled off a stellar performance in the face of exasperating behavior. I'm proud of you both."

"Thanks," he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "I appreciate the affirmation." Then consulting his watch, he began to back away. "Tell Amanda I'm sorry I missed her. We can talk tomorrow."

"Certainly, dear." Dotty watched as his tall dejected form moved toward the door. Empathizing with his feelings, she didn't have the heart to send him away. "Wait, Lee."

He whirled around, hope etched on his handsome face.

"Would you like me to wake Amanda?"

He paused, struggling for an answer. "I'm grateful for the offer, but I'm sure Amanda could benefit from a good night's sleep."

Dotty nodded in understanding. "Sleep is important, but I know without a doubt that you're her best medicine."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but there's no point in stirring things up when she's so tired."

As he pulled open the door, Dotty impulsively rushed to grab his arm. "Lee, this may sound strange coming from a grandmother . . . but I want you to feel free to come and go in our house, day or night, and for whatever reason."

Lee's jaw dropped open in surprise, and he stood there speechless.

She laughed. "Don't worry I'm not suggesting anything improper that would contradict my daughter's stellar principles. We both know Amanda's morals are as straight as an arrow. She's always been a firm believer in marriage before . . . well, you know." Even the thoroughly modern Dotty felt a blush warm her cheeks.

"Yeah, I hear you," he said, carefully avoiding her gaze.

"Good, then we're in agreement. I trust you both to be discreet with children in the house." Dotty closed the door and gave Lee a little shove toward the front hall. "Now go on upstairs and sit with Amanda a bit. I'm sure she'll sleep better knowing you came back to apologize."

He hesitated. "But what about the boys?"

"They're sound asleep," Dotty assured him. "A sonic boom couldn't wake them tonight."

* * *

The bedroom door creaked on its hinges and the floorboards groaned under the weight of Lee's footsteps, but Amanda was undisturbed by the intrusion. Even when he banged his shin on the dresser, she didn't budge.

Taking a seat on the barely adequate boudoir chair, he allowed the silence of the room to sooth his frazzled emotions. Moonlight streamed through the open curtains, casting an ethereal glow on Amanda's beautiful face. Relishing the moment of perfect peace, he drank in the sight of his wife's sweet repose. Tendrils of brunette hair fell across her cheek, and one foot peeked out from under the covers. Just watching her sleep enabled the day's tensions to drain away.

God, he couldn't believe he was in her bedroom at midnight with the entire family only several feet down the hall. Even though they'd been married for nearly two months, he'd rarely breached the upstairs of 4247 Maplewood Drive.

At least he didn't have to climb the flimsy trellis and crawl through her bedroom window anymore. He shuddered at the memory of the "Red February" terrorists who'd been getting dangerously close to Amanda during the Alan Chamberlain case. His only option to warn her had been a risky ascent to the second story. The rickety trellis had also provided an escape route during the "Stemwinder" incident – a week of personal terror when the Agency mistakenly accused Scarecrow and Mrs. King of selling out to the Russians. God, it was in this very room that he'd told Amanda he loved her, and she'd committed to following him into Hell.

Shaking his head at the poignant memories, he knew he was a lucky man. Now, thanks to Dotty's gracious invitation, he could enjoy easy access to his wife, all within the boundaries of proper discretion, of course. "Humph," he murmured, not realizing he spoke aloud.

"Mother, is that you?" Amanda mumbled as she rolled over.

"It's me," he said as he stood up and moved beside her bed.

"Lee, oh, my gosh!" Amanda flung the covers back and bolted upright. "You're actually here."

"Sssh." Placing a finger against her lips, he sat down and pulled her onto his lap. Running his hands over the smooth silky nightgown, he luxuriated in the delicate curves of her body that pressed against his chest. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, burying his face in the long column of her neck and breathing in the fragrant scent that drove him wild.

She brushed her gentle fingers through his hair in the comforting gesture that always soothed the savage beast of his emotional turmoil.

"Lee, I'm sorry for the horrible day. I should have read the riot act to my irascible family."

"Hey, it's okay. I just need to develop a tougher hide. Jamie behaved better than I did on my best day as a twelve-year-old."

"Oh, come on," Amanda chided as she tickled his ribs. "I'm sure your strict uncle never allowed you to be rude to a guest. He'd have punished you into the next century."

"Punishment never deterred me," he said, cringing at the memory of his adolescent behavior. "I was determine to challenge the old man's authority. Did I ever tell you about the time I deliberately dumped my full plate of food on the table, knocked over my glass of milk, and stormed from a dining room full of guests just because the Colonel told me to sit-up straight?"

"Ah, no, you never told me that story," she said with a grin. "That particular fit of rage sounds more like Phillip on his worst day."

He laughed. ''Amanda, don't worry about your boys. You've done a great job raising them."

"Thank you," she said, acknowledging the compliment with a kiss to his cheek. "Lee, be patient. I'm sure Jamie will come around. He just has a bad case of growing pains."

"Humph, let's hope his growing pains don't turn into a chronic condition. Whatever ails Jamie isn't some twenty-four hour stomach bug. The kid despises me."

"He just needs more time to get to know you."

"Yeah, I get it," Lee said with ragged sigh. "Believe me, I plan to give him all the time he needs."

"Good." Cupping his chin in her hands, she captured his gaze. "Lee, I'm confident Joe and the boys will personally invite you on the rafting trip."

"Don't bet on it, Amanda."

"Sweetheart, whatever happens, I have to accompany my boys. I'm the parent who led all the Cub Scout and Junior Trailblazer camping trips. Joe underestimates the difficulty of taking the boys on a wilderness adventure."

Lee grunted at his disconcerting memory of the novice Joe. "Yeah, I've seen the guy row a boat on a serene pond. He'll definitely be out of his league paddling down a river of whitewater."

"Then you understand my rationale for wanting to go."

"Absolutely, but I'm adamant that you'll not go without me. Even my world class "Cub Scout lady" can't single-handily manage two rambunctious boys, a stubborn greenhorn ex-husband, and his no nonsense, schoolmarm bride."

"Well, be forewarned, sweetheart, if you tag along, Joe will goad your temper at every turn. Then you two will lock horns, and I'll be caught in the middle. Sounds like fun, huh?

"Hey, I'm not expecting fun," Lee said with a pang of guilt. "I know I shouldn't let Joe get to me, but he's very territorial when it comes to you and his sons."

"I'm afraid you're right," Amanda said as her soft breath tickled his ear. "I hope Joe embraces marriage this time and has a child with Carrie. Maybe then my ex-husband can remember he's not the head of my household anymore. He knows perfectly well that you and I are committed to each other."

"Would it make any difference if we inform Joe we're married? You always intended to tell him when we got engaged, but you never found the appropriate time to share our secret."

"I promise, I'm going to announce it soon, but part of me fears he'll balk at two spies caring for his sons. Certainly they'll be some snide remarks about the mother of his children eloping with her favorite intelligence operative."

"I hear you," he said, resting his head against the comfort of her breasts. "However, we can't continue this charade much longer. If we don't make the announcement, the truth is going to hit the fan at the worst possible moment."

"I know, Sweetheart, but let's not figure out the details tonight. I just want to hold you close a little longer."

"Me, too," he concurred as he eased his wife to the bed and laid down beside her.

"Don't get any ideas, Buster. My mother can hear a pin drop from 100 yards away. She's bound to catch us in the act."

"Your mother already knows I'm upstairs. In fact she was in the kitchen when I arrived, and she invited me to look in on you."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope," he responded with a deep laugh. "She followed me up the steps with her favorite sleep cocktail in hand. Dotty said she'd fall asleep secure in the knowledge that her very proper daughter will always hold me to the highest standard."

"My mother discussed my moral behavior with you?"

"You bet. She vowed you'd never cross the line without a marriage license."

"But, we do have a marriage license."

"Exactly!" Rising to his feet, Lee crossed the room and turned the lock on the door. Then hesitating, he had second thoughts. "Amanda, what if the boys hear us?"

"Don't worry; they've had a hectic day. Phillip and Jamie won't wake-up until I drag them out of bed in the morning. I think we can risk a little intimacy tonight."

"Just a little," Lee teased as he toed out of his shoes, pulled off his shirt, and dropped his pants. Then padding to the bed, he watched Amanda fling her nightgown over the bedpost. "I guess we'd better be quick."

"And quiet," she reminded him as he climbed into bed and wrapped his body around her naked form.

* * *

 **TBC:**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three - April 1987 – Early Monday Morning  
**

Lee tiptoed down the stairs at dawn's first light. With each squeak of a step, he chastised himself for dozing off instead of exiting Amanda's house under the safe cover of darkness. "Damn," he muttered. He'd intended to leave as soon as they'd finished their lovemaking. However, sated and drowsy, he and Amanda had fallen asleep in each other's arms.

Reaching the front foyer without detection, Lee slipped into his shoes and hurried toward the kitchen. A few more yards, and he could escape the King home without any repercussions. No such luck. Seated in the breakfast nook with a heaping bowel of Cheerios was his youngest stepson. The kid certainly wasn't having a leisurely breakfast. He'd staked-out an ambush.

"Good morning, Mr. Stetson," the irate boy said with biting sarcasm.

"Ja-mie," he croaked, cringing under the accusative stare that stopped him in his tracks. Somehow the kid had discovered his mother's overnight guest, and now he was prepared to defend her honor.

Lee searched his mind for a plausible explanation, but none of his past wealth of excuses could measure up to the unique occasion. "This isn't as bad as it looks," he said lamely. "Please don't rush to judgement, son."

"I'm not your son."

God, he wished he could tell the truth right now, and then let the consequences fall where they may. 'Hey', he wanted to scream, 'I'm married to your mother – get over it'. Instead he remained silent and resigned himself to the guilty verdict handed down by the pint-size, all-in-one, judge and jury. Taking it on the chin, he accepted the conviction like a man submitting to his execution. "Jamie, your mom is still asleep, but, I promise we'll sit down with you and talk over the situation later today."

"Don't ever try to explain," the kid warned with a poisonous look. "I'm not a baby anymore; I get it. Just leave and never come back."

Lee reeled from the verbal sucker punch and then returned his own harsh barbs. "Okay, fine, have it your way," he said as he stormed toward the backdoor. Unable to contain his fury, Lee, in a moment of pure folly, swore a parting oath. "Believe me, Hell will freeze over before I'm sucked into another family vortex again."

Slamming the door, he raced to the Corvette. In seconds he was peeling rubber as he made his noisy exodus from the quiet suburban neighborhood.

* * *

Arriving just in time to witness the grand finale and hear Lee's riotous retreat, a stunned Dotty stood on the landing. "Oh, boy," she said with a painful sigh.

"Mother, what's going on?" Still bedraggled from sleep, Amanda hurried down the stairs. "Lee just exited the house like his shirttail was on fire."

Dotty gestured toward an enraged Jamie as he rushed by the women in his life and thundered up the stairs. "I'm afraid Lee and our youngest boy exchanged a few heated words."

"Oh my gosh."

Steering her daughter toward the kitchen, the West matriarch began opening and closing cabinets as she set about preparing the morning coffee. "I'm sorry to admit the confrontation is all my fault."

"No mother, I'm responsible for the fall-out," Amanda said as a blush spread across her face. "I'm the one who convinced Lee to stay for a while and, well, you know . . . one thing led to another."

Dotty held up her hands. "Don't apologize; what goes on in the privacy of your bedroom is no one else's business."

"Except when a twelve-year-old child makes it his business." Holding her hands against her temples, Amanda vented her anxiety. "Why, why, why," she chanted as if her mind would reveal logical answers to impossible questions.

"Why, indeed," Dotty said with motherly certitude. "Darling, you're a vibrant woman in love with an incredible man. I understand why you would succumb to temptation under less than ideal circumstances."

"Mother, please," Amanda pleaded. "I don't want my indiscretion to be the topic of anyone's conversation."

"Of course not," Dotty replied as she popped bagels into the toaster. "However, I apparently assumed too much on Lee's part. I suppose my little talk on the virtues of propriety flew right under his radar."

"No, it didn't," Amanda said. "Lee was worried about the boys . . ."

"Guess again, Mom," Phillip said as he pulled his reluctant brother into the kitchen. The two of them stood together, arms folded across their chests, in the perfect united front. "Lee didn't think twice about us when he invaded your bedroom."

"How could you, Mom?" Jamie asked, his face contorted with wretched emotional pain. "I already knew Lee couldn't be trusted, but you're supposed to be dependable."

Resigned to the verbal attack, Amanda dropped to a stool and waited out her sons' tirade.

Phillip jutted out his jaw with defiance. "Mom, it's not fair that you demand a strict set of rules for us and then ignore them for yourself? You won't let me have girlfriends in my room."

With a scorching look that could singe eyebrows, Dotty intervened for the defense. "Now hold it right there, boys. Lee and your mother are adults with interests and needs that don't merit your concern. Nor is it your place to cast judgement. Remember, you two have never questioned my dating life. You've just accepted the men I bring home and the weekend trips I've taken with them."

"Jeez, Grandma," Jamie said. "We don't need to worry about the old men you date. They're no threat."

"Oh," Dotty said, taken aback by her grandson's audacity. "You'll certainly change your tune when you're older and wiser."

Amanda moved toward the boys, but stopped short when they took a step back. "Fellas, please understand, everything is not what it seems. When Lee returns, we'll put the whole matter into proper prospective."

"He won't be back, Mom," Jamie said without an iota of remorse.

"Of course he will."

"No, he won't," the boy reiterated. "You didn't hear what Lee yelled before he slammed the door."

"Tell me," she said, bracing for whatever colorful profanity her husband allowed to slip passed his lips.

Jamie hesitated. "Honest, Mom, Lee shouted something about Hell freezing over before he'd get sucked into our family whirlpool again."

Philip smirked. "See, the dude cracked. Dork face finally succeeded in driving him away."

Amanda remained resolute. "Boys, when Lee's under duress, his temper can get the better of him, but I guarantee he's sorry for his outburst. Believe me, he'll calm down and be back. For now you two need to trust us."

The boys stared blankly at their mother as if she'd given them a lengthy rebuttal in Portuguese.

"Well, darling, I certainly trust you both," Dotty said as the doorbell rang. "Great, who rings the bell at this hour?"

Hoping the guilty party was back, Amanda rushed to open the door. "Sweetheart, I'm glad . . ." Her voice trailed off when recognition dawned. "Joe, what are you doing here?"

Without invitation, the scowling Joe King barged through the door. "Jamie called me. Apparently Stetson spent the night with you and left the whole family in an uproar."

Amanda shook her head at the latest intrusion into her private life. With a stern glance that corralled them all, she pointed toward the living room. "Okay, family, you've pushed me too far. Boys, since you don't have any school this week, you may as well go back to bed. I'll deal with you after I've discussed the situation with your father and grandmother."

"But, Mom," Jamie complained. "I'm the key witness."

"Son, I think you've testified enough for one day," Joe said, backing up his ex-wife for a change.

"And, one more thing," Amanda added hotly. "Don't even consider eavesdropping. If I ever catch you spying on me again, you'll be grounded for a week. Got it?"

"Yeah, sure," Phillip said with a sheepish look. "We've got it."

* * *

"Amanda, I'm surprised at you," Joe scolded in a holier-than-thou tone of voice. "I warned you that Lee Stetson was not a suitable prospect for a suburban mother with two young boys. Certainly you understand that his playboy lifestyle is well-known throughout the Washington, D.C. social scene."

"Oh, so now you've been investigating Lee," Amanda said with a testy rebuke.

Clearly alarmed, Dotty's blonde head bobbed back and forth between the feuding pair. "What in heaven's name are you two talking about? I've been under the distinct impression that Lee is totally committed to my daughter."

"Committed, nothing," Joe said before Amanda could argue her case. "The guy has been making the rounds with many of the Capital District's most glamorous socialites."

"Oh, no, my daughter is practically engaged to a philanderer," Dotty said with alarm. "I feared Lee Stetson may be too good to be true."

Amanda held up a hand in vigorous protest. "Everyone stop right there, because Joe's spreading old news. 'Past' is the operative word here. In the past, Lee was a confirmed bachelor and, as such, he had an active social life. However, before he started dating me, he called it quits with the ladies he'd courted over the years. Lee wanted a clean slate, so he committed to changing his lifestyle before he pursued a romantic relationship with me."

Joe's brow wrinkled with concern. "You're risking a lot, Amanda. If Lee's not the marrying type, why did you involve him with the family?"

Reining in her temper, Amanda made the life altering decision to drop the marital bomb on her unsuspecting family. "All right, if you insist on imagining the worst about Lee, I have no other recourse than to admit the absolute truth whether you're ready to hear it or not."

"What truth?" Dotty demanded, obviously beyond perturbed.

With a surge of self-confidence, Amanda unveiled the secret in the family arena. "Lee and I are married."

For a long moment, silence hovered over the rapt audience as the words hung in limbo. Finally Dotty spoke. "Married," she stammered, her eyes wide with astonishment.

Joe's jaw dropped in disbelief. "When?"

"Last February thirteenth in Marion. We eloped in Virginia and honeymooned in California."

"Oh no," her mother cried. "Then you were shot right after your wedding." Dotty slumped back on the sofa, struggling to contain her emotions and absorb all the implications. "As sorry I feel about the circumstances, I'm just as angry that you left me totally out of the loop. I mean, there I was grieving for my gravely injured daughter, and I didn't even know she was married. Oh, Amanda, how could you?"

As Dotty glowered at her only child, Joe pounced. "Amanda, you're usually a reasonable woman. How did Stetson manage to talk you into a clandestine marriage?"

"Well, he didn't have to twist my arm," she rasped, annoyed at her ex-husband's innuendo. Attempting to modulate her tone, she arose from the sofa and began a series of laps around the room. "Lee and I both thought our family would be safer if we kept the marriage a secret."

"Safer from what?" Dotty asked, clearly agitated.

"Go ahead," Joe challenged his ex-wife. "Fill in all the blanks you've left unanswered for years."

Amanda glared at her first love, keenly aware of the sticking points still present in their divorce. "Joe, you of all people, should understand the dilemma that Lee and I face."

"Why would Joe understand when I don't?" a provoked Dotty asked.

Amanda realized her slip of the tongue. "Mother, Lee assisted Joe when he returned from Africa last year. Maybe you remember there were false accusations when the Estoccian Prime Minister was supposedly shot. I mentioned that some of my government friends cleared Joe of any culpability."

Dotty looked perplex. "Lee was one of those government friends?"

Joe cast a wary eye on his ex-wife. "Yes, Lee led the investigation," he said, opening the door to more difficult questions. "Both Lee and Amanda proved my innocence, so I fully understand why their dangerous line of work demands secrecy."

"Dangerous?" Dotty asked incredulously. "Just how hazardous is documentary film making? It's not like Lee and Amanda film terrorists."

"Not exactly, Dotty." Joe extended his arm, waiting for his ex-wife to take the hand-off.

Annoyed that her ex-husband forced the revelation, Amanda took a big breath and braced for the fallout. "Mother, Lee and I aren't documentary filmmakers. International Federal Film is a cover for an ultra-secret government agency. We're both Federal Intelligence Operatives."

"Intelligence Operatives?" Dotty repeated, practically choking on the news. "Do you mean spies?"

"Exactly," Amanda said, praying for acceptance.

Dotty's exasperation ignited like a match to dry brush. "Why on earth would you take a risk-filled job, Amanda? I mean, you're smart, educated, and type over ninety words a minute if you don't count typos. You could have picked any number of careers without putting yourself in danger."

"I can assure you, Mother; I never aspired to espionage. However, one day when I drove Dean to the train station, I was approached by a waiter with a package. He shoved it into my hand and said, 'Get on the train and give it to the man in a red hat'. Unbelievably, I did. The rest is classified history."

"A waiter, huh," Dotty said with a wry laugh. "I just bet that was your Mr. Stetson."

"Yes, Mother."

"Wait until I get my hands on my new son-in-law," Dotty said as she shook a finger under Amanda's nose. "This latest foolishness better be the last time Lee Stetson and my daughter pull the wool over my eyes. Boyfriend, my foot. Now you tell me you are both spies, and you're married to a man I hardly know. I'm your mother and therefore entitled to a little more respect."

Amanda hung her head, feeling the shame only a parent could inflict upon an adult child. "Mother, I've already told you a lot about our relationship. Lee became my mentor in 1983 when I was just a civilian employee at IFF. Later we became friends, and eventually partners. After three years we confessed our love for each other. However, you certainly knew nothing of the agony we suffered when trying to plan a life together without putting our family in danger. The solution, we thought at the time, was a secret marriage."

"And see how well that's working for you," Dotty said dryly.

Joe looked contrite. "Amanda, I am sorry for being so hard on you and Lee. I had no idea. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to announce the elopement, but the timing never seemed right. Lee and I talked last night about the need to share our secret. We've been miserable sneaking around and hiding our marriage."

"I can imagine, Darling," Dotty said with a hint of understanding in her voice. "But what do we tell the boys?"

"That's the million-dollar question." Amanda shook her head at the conundrum. "Presently no one at the office knows about our marriage. We've been afraid they'd split us up at work, but somehow we need to come clean at the Agency before opening up with Phillip and Jamie."

"Do you want to tell the boys you're a SPY?" Dotty asked, the last word climaxing in a deafening shrill.

"Ssh," Amanda cautioned. Moving toward the foyer, she peered up the stairs. Satisfied that her sons were in their room, she finished her explanation. "We're not ready to inform the boys. Lee and I feel they're still too immature to respect the need for secrecy. When we do announce our occupations, Phillip and Jamie will require special classes at the Agency for children of intelligence operatives."

"And I hope they have a crash course for mothers, too," Dotty added under her breath. "Darling, I can understand the need to maintain your work cover for the boys' sake, but I do think they need to know Lee is their stepfather."

"Absolutely," Amanda said. "Just last night Lee worried we'd wait too long and our deception would be exposed. Then the boys would discover the truth at the worst possible moment."

"The truth was exposed all right," Dotty responded with a hint of biting humor. "Real or imagined, hind-sight can be very disconcerting."

"Mo-ther, please," Amanda gasped, her face certainly betraying her dismay. "Regardless of the ill-timed revelation, I want Lee present when we break the news to the boys."

All business, a straight face Joe inserted himself back into the mother-daughter banter. "The sooner you tell our sons you're married to Lee, the better for everyone."

Worry was still etched on Dotty's face as she pondered the predicament. "I guarantee the boys will want to know why you hid your marriage from the family. If you don't mention your jobs, they won't understand all the secrecy."

"Yes, I realize our tangled web of deceit has complicated everything," Amanda said as she anxiously wrung her hands together. "Maybe we should remind Phillip and Jamie that the news of a stepfather was a little premature since they hardly know Lee. At least that's the truth."

"Well, not the whole truth, but sensible for now." Seemingly pacified, Dotty nodded her approval.

Amanda glanced at the schoolhouse clock. "Oh my gosh," she moaned as she jumped to her feet. "I'm not even dressed, and I'm already late for work. My Monday morning staff meeting has started without me."

"You get ready to go," Joe said amicably. "I took today off, so I'll stay and help Dotty smooth things over with Phillip and Jamie."

"Thank you, Joe."

Dotty rose and put an arm around her daughter. "Dear, don't worry. The brouhaha will blow over before you come home, and then you and Lee can set the boys straight about your marital status."

Amanda sighed with relief. "Sounds like a good plan."

"It's foolproof, Darling."

* * *

 **TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four – Agency, Monday Morning (Day after Easter)  
**

Perfectly normal human beings hurried through the underground Agency corridors. The legion of employees included secretaries, accountants, lawyers, medical staff, military personnel, administrators, cryptologists, analysts, and field agents. However, unlike other employees in ordinary jobs, their responsibilities entailed life and death decisions made on a minute to minute basis. The myriad of job descriptions could require endless surveillance, interpretation of vital information, prevention of international coups, dismantling nuclear bombs, and stopping terrorist attacks. Every moment of every day, many operatives put their lives on the line to protect the citizens of the United States.

Astonishing as it may seem, even an unassuming housewife from Arlington, Virginia could be hired by the ultra-secret intelligence agency. Whether a fluke, fate, or divine providence, the job changed Amanda King's life for the better. She was proud to make a difference for her family and her country. And Lee, she reminded herself as she rushed toward field section. His poignant words still rang true in her mind, "It's a dirty job that someone has to do, and I happen to do it well."

"So, there you are," Francine called as a harried Amanda dashed through the double doors of the bullpen. "Let me guess. You're running late because you ran over your son's bicycle again. Or, possibly, your neighbor's dog dug up your flowerbed and raided the trash can."

Breathless, Amanda came up short at her colleague's desk. "Good Morning, Francine. I'm afraid the home front was a bit chaotic today."

Swiveling around on her desk chair, the senior agent's clear blue eyes swept over her favorite target. "I suppose suburbia is still recovering from its sugar high? Did you enjoy the Easter Egg hunt, your basket full of jelly beans, and the feast of the fatted pig?"

Shaking her head at the teasing, the steadfast Mrs. King quietly endured the taunts. After nearly four years together in espionage, Francine Desmond still relished any opportunity to ridicule Amanda's humble beginnings. As far as she knew, no stay-at-home mom with two kids, a mortgage, and a station wagon had ever made it to the Agency big leagues – at least not until Lee Stetson grabbed her one autumn day at a train station and said, "Walk with me."

Already bored with their exchange, Francine turned her attention back to the computer screen. "If you're looking for Lee, he's gone."

Amanda's jaw dropped. "What do you mean by gone?"

"Exactly that," Francine said, a bit impatiently. "Lee was at the staff meeting. Dr. Smyth interrupted the proceedings, spoke a few words to Billy, and then beckoned for Lee to accompany him. Sorry, but I have no idea what's going on."

"Oh, no, not today," Amanda muttered to herself. "Maybe Mr. Melrose will share the specifics."

"Good luck," Francine said as she offered a dismissive wave. "Billy's on the warpath again."

Giving her signature knock, Amanda waited nervously outside the door to field section's inner sanctum. Pondering the day's already shaky beginning, she could only surmise that events would spiral down from here. If the Agency Director had yanked Lee out of a staff meeting, then it could only mean Dr. Smyth wanted to saddle his unconventional agent with another perilous case. Every seasoned field agent knew the old man despised Lee and would never shed a tear if Scarecrow managed to get himself killed in the line of duty.

"Come," Melrose finally barked, startling Amanda out of her ruminations.

"Hello, Sir," she said politely. Usually her cheery greeting prompted a smile in return, but not this morning.

"How nice of you to join us today, Mrs. King," her boss said with an undertone of sarcasm. "Did you forget our staff meeting?"

"No, sir." She wanted to elaborate, but decided he was in no mood for any convoluted excuses. "I'm looking for Lee."

Mr. Melrose relaxed his scowl and motioned for her to sit down. "Something has come up, Amanda. Lee's been called away from Washington."

"Away?" The mere thought of Lee's absence was enough to unravel her fragile composure. "Is this need-to-know, sir?"

"Top secret, Amanda," Melrose said as he ingested two anti-acid tablets. "Dr. Smyth hasn't even shared the details with me, yet."

"When does he leave?"

"He's flying out of Dulles later today."

"Can you tell me how long he'll be gone?"

Melrose shook his head. "I don't know for sure. Maybe weeks. Maybe longer."

"I see." Shaken to the core, Amanda blinked back tears. Just when they were trying to get their marriage on track, Lee up and left. While certainly not his fault, nonetheless he would be absent at a critical time in their family life. "Will I see him before he leaves?" she asked in a small voice.

"I'm afraid not. You know the rules; Lee can't tell you anything."

She nodded. "I understand, but I don't like it."

Billy seemed alarmed at her discomfiture. "Amanda, are you all right?"

"Yes," she lied.

Perching a hip on his desk, Mr. Melrose offered a reassuring smile. "I realize as half of a top-notch team you feel responsible for watching Lee's back. However, Scarecrow is an outstanding solo agent, too, and that's exactly what Dr. Smyth needs for the new assignment."

Amanda merely nodded, struggling with the reality of a long separation. Good Lord, what would she tell her family? With Lee gone, there'd be no convincing proof that the boys had a caring stepfather who desperately wanted to be a vital part of their lives.

Billy studied her rigid form with the scrutiny of a Supreme Court judge. "Amanda, the Agency occasionally sends Lee overseas on assignments, and, in this case, he didn't have a choice. You're usually fine with Scarecrow's erratic schedule. What's going on today that's made you late and unhappy?"

"Nothing earth shattering." Amanda looked away, avoiding her boss's intense gaze. Hesitantly, she conjured up a vague explanation. "There are a few problems at home that have spilled over into my work life. I'm afraid they've contributed to some dissension with my partner. I was hoping to smooth things over with Lee today."

Billy's frown returned. "Amanda, we both know Scarecrow's understanding of family life is practically zilch. I hope Lee isn't unsympathetic toward your parental responsibilities?"

"No, sir." Amanda shook her head, wishing she had the courage to unpack the truth, right this very minute. But, no, she couldn't, not with Lee shouldering the burden of Dr. Smyth's secret agenda. Instead she offered another saccharine clarification to her boss. "Quite the contrary, sir, Lee is usually very empathetic."

"Then what's going on?" Mr. Melrose watched her closely, obviously trying to discern her inner thoughts. "Do you need time off? I imagine your sons are on a school break now, so I could allow you a day or two away from the office."

"I appreciate the offer, sir, but fortunately Joe and Mother will keep tabs on the boys."

"Would you like to talk to the Agency psychiatrist, Dr. Pfaff? Field agents with families sometimes find the combined stress from work and home overwhelming. It's important to stay a step ahead of burnout."

"Yes, that's true; I'll consider your suggestion if the stress escalates."

Abruptly Melrose moved from his perch, signally the conversation was over. "If there is anything I can do, just let me know."

"Thank you for listening, sir," Amanda said with a genuine smile. "Sorry to take so much of your time. I'll just go upstairs to the Q-Bureau and review the minutes from the staff meeting."

Holding the office door for Amanda, Billy momentarily blocked her path. "I know you'd like to see Lee before he departs, but I strongly advise you to stay away. He's under contact zero, and if Dr. Smyth discovered any communication between Scarecrow and Mrs. King, he'd discipline both of you."

With a noncommittal nod she left, careful not to make a promise she had no intention of keeping.

* * *

The hands of the clock moved slowly as the morning dragged on without any word from Lee. She'd hoped he would send an innocuous message, maybe by way of T.P. Aquinas, to inform her of his whereabouts. After two hours with nothing forthcoming, she decided to risk a phone conversation to her mother.

"Are the boys okay?" she asked without tipping her hand to reveal the reason for her call.

"Yes, darling, they're with Joe. He's taking them to Memorial Stadium for the Orioles' afternoon game."

"So you're home alone?"

"Of course, Amanda."

"Then no visitors have shown up?"

Dotty paused. "Oh, you mean . . ."

"Yes, Mother, that's exactly what I mean." Thankfully Dotty West, with only a few hours of privileged information committed to memory, was already shrewd enough to play the secretive game involving Lee and Amanda's relationship.

"Dear, I'm sorry, but there's been no sign of your Uncle Herman."

"Well, if he shows up, tell him I love him."

"Yes, darling, I'll be sure to give him your message."

"I love you, Mother. Talk to you later. Bye."

With the noon hour upon her, Amanda grabbed her purse and headed for the door. As Lee would say, "If Mohammad won't come to the mountain, the mountain must come to Mohammad."

Descending the stairs under the watchful eye of Mrs. Marston, Amanda offered a stellar smile, turned in her Agency pass, and breezed by the dour receptionist. "On such a beautiful day, I think I'll take a walk," she announced.

Realizing she could be followed, Amanda causally entered a sandwich shop, placed her order, and headed for the ladies room. As she passed the kitchen, she altered her course and ducked inside. Walking against the tide of waiters and waitresses, she found the exit and reached the alley. Making her way to the street, she quickly hailed a cab and headed toward the National Mall.

Operating solely on instinct, Amanda rehearsed the many meeting sites Lee had chosen over the course of their four-year relationship. If they needed a place to talk, a walk along the Potomac River or under the cover of beloved monuments afforded them the privacy they needed.

Remembering their very first case together, she decided to head to the Tidal Basin. "Drop me off at the Jefferson Memorial," she told the cabbie.

Climbing the marble steps to the portico, she hovered under the dome and watched for signs of Lee. As the minutes turned to ten and then twenty, she doubted her decision. What was she thinking? Today, of all days, children from Maine to Hawaii were on vacation, and thousands of their families were descending upon the nation's capital.

With the streets jammed with cars and buses vying for coveted parking spaces, Lee wouldn't have the time or patience to fight gridlock and search for her among mobs of visitors. If he didn't show soon, she'd have to head back to the Agency.

Finally a light tap on her shoulder startled Amanda from her musings. Whirling around, she found herself engulfed in familiar strong arms. "Lee," she sighed, hugging him tightly. "I thought my husband left without saying good-bye."

"Never, Amanda, not as long as I have life and breath." Pressing her back against the tall pillar, he leaned forward and meshed his warm lips with hers. At first his kiss was tender, filled with deep devotion and longing. Then pulling her closer, his searching lips sent a message of desperate need and sad farewell.

"Lee," she said breathlessly as she pushed her hands against his chest. "Talk to me."

Wrapping his arm around her waist, he guided her further into the shadows of the colonnade. "Listen," he said, consulting his watch. "I only have three minutes, so let's not waste any time discussing my assignment."

She ignored his request. "Lee, are you heading to the Soviet Union?"

"Hell, Amanda what makes you jump to that conclusion?"

"I read the report from the morning staff meeting," she said with a knowing look. "The bugging of the United States Embassy in Moscow was the first item on the agenda. Since our government has accused the Soviet Union of serious diplomatic misconduct, I imagine the breach is threatening Secretary of State Shultz's scheduled talks in Moscow next week."

"Shultz's meeting may go on as planned," he said, downplaying her theory. "President Reagan won't allow the Soviets to run us out of town." Already in Scarecrow mode, Lee clamped his mouth closed and looked away from her probing eyes.

Impatient with his silence, she pushed harder for answers. "So does this affect you? Apparently the president has appointed a review board, and intelligence agencies are expected to investigate the violations."

The telltale clench of Lee's jaw heightened her suspicions.

"Amanda, stop," he pleaded as he firmly grasped her shoulders. "I can't risk spilling any facts about my assignment. If Dr. Smyth decides to test our oath of allegiance than you'll honestly know nothing."

Reluctantly she acquiesced. "You're right, Sweetheart," she said, finally yielding to his need for secrecy.

Lee's eyes scanned the perimeter, carefully searching for unwanted eyes and ears. "So how's the home front. I'm sorry I left everything in shambles. Your family may never want to speak to me again."

She offered a wry smile. "Well, you did manage to blow the lid off our secrets. Jamie was angry enough to call his father to come deal with his wayward mother."

"Great, now I shot everything to hell." The bulging vein in his neck took on a purplish hue as he seethed with frustration. "So," he finally said, blowing off steam. "How did the family handle the truth about our lives?"

She tenderly stroked his cheek, trying to reassure him. "I told Mother and Joe the whole story of how we met, our real jobs, and our secret marriage. Surprisingly they're supportive, especially Joe since he already knew about our line of work. However, mother would like to throttle both of us for keeping her in the dark."

"She'll come around when the shock wears off."

"Yes, Mother is already playing on our team. It's the boys I'm worried about. I haven't offered them any explanation for the man in their mother's bed." Her voice turned raspy as she remembered their outrage. "Phillip and Jamie think we're both hypocrites – you know, one standard for kids and another one for adults."

"Dammit, the rascals must have hovered outside the door during our little tryst. Now I have both kids hating me."

She shook her head vigorously in denial. "They don't hate you, Sweetheart, but the boys need to know the truth about our marriage. I planned to tell them tonight, provided you could be there for the announcement. However, without you present to affirm your commitment to the whole family, any declaration would seem like an empty promise."

Lee relaxed his cynical expression. "Then the announcement should wait. Maybe a cooling off period will be good for the whole family," he suggested, sounding more like a soldier with a coveted weekend pass than a stepfather with two misbehaving children. "Everyone can breathe a sigh of relief if I disappear for a while."

"Especially you," she said with rising skepticism that blurred her judgement. "A trip overseas comes in handy, huh?"

"A-man-da," he griped as his simmering annoyance escalated to a rolling boil. "You know damn well I'm not running out on you."

"Intellectually, yes," she admitted with some trepidation. "But emotionally the new assignment feels like a convenient excuse for my husband to flee the family tensions."

For a brief moment, hurt clouded his hazel eyes before he looked away. "Hell, think whatever you want," he growled. "I don't have any more time to argue the point." Then poised for a hasty retreat, he brushed a kiss across her cheek, turned on his heel, and blended into the crowd.

Aghast that she allowed her husband to depart in the midst of marital discord, Amanda hurried after him. Elbowing her way through the maze of tourists, she followed the tall figure who stood head and shoulders above the multitude.

She only maneuvered a few yards before realizing the futility of pursuit. "I love you," she called as Lee vanished from view.

 **Maplewood Drive - Monday Evening  
**

The peaceful twilight settled over the Arlington neighborhood as Amanda pulled the Wagoneer into her driveway and made the short trek to the front door. Gathering strength to face a disgruntled family, she paused to admire the vibrant tulips and white dogwood that graced her yard. Wasn't it only yesterday morning when her loved ones, garbed in their Easter finery, posed for snapshots in front of the blooming splendor? Even Lee sported a new suit and a wide dimpled grin as he stood with his arm wrapped around her waist.

Now, a mere thirty-four hours later, she stood alone, uninformed where her husband was going and when he'd return. If her educated guess held any validity, he may be flying five thousand miles away. While she slept tonight, his plane could be touching down in the Soviet Union.

Overwhelmed by the family friction and her husband's sudden departure, Amanda cautiously entered the front foyer and listened for evidence of harmony or discord. A thumping overhead told her the boys were engaged in more mischief—either dribbling a basketball on their bedroom floor or wrestling each other into submission over some minor injustice.

Apparently her mother was oblivious to Phillip and Jamie's racket. A song from a bygone age wafted through the house, indicating Dorothea West was otherwise occupied. Following the music, Amanda discovered the family matriarch ensconced in the formal living room with the stereo on full blast. Swaying to the sounds from the big band era, Dotty sang along with her favorite World War II tune.

 _"I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places_

 _That this heart of mine embraces all day through_

 _In that small café, the park across the way_

 _The children's carousel, the chestnut trees, the wishing well.  
_

 _I'll be seeing you in every lovely summer's day,  
_

 _And everything that's light and gay, I'll always think of you that way_

 _I'll find you in the morning sun and when the night is new  
_

 _I'll be looking at the moon, but I'll be seeing you" **_

The dated words were poignant even for Amanda. With her husband heading overseas on a secret mission, the newlywed wondered if she'd be seeing her bridegroom "in all the old familiar places?"

Lost in the nostalgia, Dotty was unaware of her audience. Cautiously, Amanda crossed the room, hoping to avoid embarrassing her mother.

Dotty jumped when her daughter entered her personal space. "Oh my goodness, you startled me."

"Sorry, Mother. I shouldn't intrude upon your private moments."

"Darling, you just caught me in a maudlin mood. I guess the sudden news of my daughter's secret marriage made me feel a bit sad and sentimental. "I'll Be Seeing You," was a cherished song for your daddy and me when he served overseas during the war. Playing our favorite record today enabled me to feel close to him after our baby girl shared her big announcement."

"You mean my morning bombshell? Oh, Mother, do you think Daddy would approve of my choices?"

"Of course, Darling. You could never do anything wrong in your father's eyes. He was perfectly content to pamper you and leave most of the parental worrying and discipline to me."

"Do you approve of my choices?"

"Humph, not yet." Dotty's brow knitted with concern as she shot Amanda a scolding look. "I'm afraid I can't endorse your dangerous occupation and all the secrecy, but I'll try very hard to make my peace with it."

"Thank you, Mother," Amanda said, feeling a mix of disappointment and relief. "What about Lee? Do you approve of him?"

Dotty offered a cryptic smile as she shut off the stereo and returned the record to its jacket. "Your spy extraordinaire is a very complicated man. However, I'm sure your father and I would agree that you and Lee belong together."

"Really?" Amanda asked, the old childish need for approval tugging at her heartstrings. "Daddy was very impressed with Joe, and you certainly entertained the possibly that the two of us might remarry when he returned from Africa."

Silence pervaded the room as Dotty pondered the statement. "Yes, I fantasized about you reconciling with your ex-husband, but that was prior to meeting the illusive Mr. Stetson. When Lee finally appeared on our front steps, I realized there was no contest. Love glowed in his expressive eyes every time he spoke your name."

Amanda blushed. "In truth, I never knew how deep and wide love could grow until Lee and I confessed our mutual attraction and became a couple."

"Darling, I suspected for years that there was someone very special at IFF. Long before Lee was introduced to the family, I saw hints of infatuation on your face whenever the colleague with a half-dozen pseudonyms telephoned our house. You never had the same sparkle when you dated Joe King. As fond as your daddy and I were of your impressive young lawyer, we doubted you'd met your perfect match. The two of you never seemed madly in love."

The revelation was shocking. "I had no idea you felt that way," Amanda said, realizing she may have been more in love with the idea of marrying than the actual person she exchanged vows with at the altar of the Presbyterian church. In those days, graduating females desired a Bachelor's degree in tandem with a marriage license. Who better to meet those expectations than the older, more mature, Joe King who certainly swept her off her feet when she felt ready to make the leap from Miss Amanda West to Mrs Joseph King. "Mother, maybe you should have warned me."

Dotty laughed. "I did offer a few pointed hints that you brushed off. In truth, parents don't usually get to vote on their child's choice of spouse. You were happy to marry a very good man, so we were happy for you. Your father and I realized that many people never experience even one great love in their lives, but they can still have satisfying marriages based on friendship, respect, and deep affection."

"Mother, are you trying to tell me that I never loved Joe as much as you loved Daddy?"

"I can't really know, dear, but, in my case, your father was the gold standard out of all my beaus, past and present," a radiant Dotty proclaimed. "I was fortunate to marry my best friend and the love of my life."

Amanda couldn't help but smile. "You two were always a tough act to follow."

"Yes, your father and I had something very special," Dotty said with a dreamy faraway look in her eyes. Then snapping back into the present, she grasped her daughter's hands. "I know, on many levels, you still love Joe and always will; after all, he fathered your children and remains an important part of our family. However, with Lee you've captured the magic missing in your first marriage. Your Prince Charming has awakened a passion and shown you the tenderness and devotion you've never before found in a man."

Touched by the moving declaration, Amanda brushed a tear from her cheek and pulled her mother into an embrace. Then reaching for the album, she clutched the treasure to her chest. "Mother, may I borrow your record? I could use some musical words of inspiration right now, especially after my husband disappeared today."

Dotty appeared thunderstruck. "What's happened to Lee? No wonder your chin is practically dragging on the floor. Should I assume your secret agent has gone missing without a word?" Placing an arm around her daughter, she motioned toward the sofa.

Exhausted, Amanda complied without hesitation. Kicking off her shoes and drawing a foot under her thigh, she fielded the question about her husband's whereabouts. "Oh, I found Lee all right, but he barely said 'hello and good-bye' before he left for the airport and a new assignment that doesn't include me."

Dotty was skeptical. "I hope you won't try to convince me that he's working on another documentary."

"No mother, I won't pretend he's scouting locations or cranking out another movie." Amanda released a sigh, grateful she could tell the truth instead of concocting another wild tale. "My supervisor was mum about the case, and Lee was forbidden to reveal details. I only know the destination is overseas, and the length of his stay is indefinite," she finished in a small voice. Hesitating, she decided to tell it all. "I'm sorry to admit we didn't part well. Lee was pretty upset about this morning's pandemonium, especially when I implied he was running out on all of us by leaving the country for parts unknown."

"Lee certainly realizes you didn't mean it," Dotty said with a knowing smile. "Your husband loves you too much to doubt your unwavering trust." Dotty cupped Amanda's chin, forcing her to meet her gaze. "Besides, it sounds like Lee didn't have the option of turning down the assignment."

"No, he didn't. His orders came down from the very top of the Agency chain of command."

"Does he know 'the cat's out of the bag'?"

"Yes, I informed him of my confession to you and Joe."

"Well, good, he'll take solace in the knowledge that he's been given official family member status." Dotty slid closer to her daughter and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Amanda, what about your long overdue conversation with the boys?"

"The discussion will have to wait. Introductions are useless if the principal character is absent."

"Introduce us to whom?" Phillip asked as he suddenly materialized behind them.

"I hope Lee isn't the principal character," Jamie added as he crept in and stood beside his brother. "One introduction was enough for me."

"Must you boys always sneak up on us?" Amanda asked with uncharacteristic annoyance. Here we go again, she thought, already regretting the friction that reignited like smoldering embers. An awkward moment passed between mother and sons.

Jamie's gaze was defiant. "Mom, walking into a room in our stocking feet is hardly a federal offense."

Phillip frowned, already impatient with the proceedings. "Can't we just eat? I'm starving," he complained as if their outrageous performance at breakfast was now ancient history.

Dotty intervened. "Boys, let's give your mother a chance to catch her breath and change her clothes. I'll heat up the leftovers from yesterday's brunch."

"Thank you," Amanda said as she rose from the couch and bypassed Phillip and Jamie. Relenting mid-stride, she returned to squeeze their shoulders. "Don't worry, fellas. Life will feel more normal during the next few weeks. IFF has assigned Lee to a new project, so he'll be working out-of-town for the foreseeable future. "

Her sons had the decency to look contrite.

"I guess, he's still mad, huh?" Jamie said, with a slight inflection of guilt in his voice.

"No, Lee's just extremely busy." Amanda managed a faint smile, grateful for even the smallest sign of remorse from her son. "Maybe you can work on your attitude while he's gone. Like it or not, Lee Stetson is coming back to us. And despite any objections in the family, it's time you accepted our deeply committed relationship. Our love for each other is the real deal, and I guarantee it will last for all the days of our lives."

The boys hung their heads, pondering the words that came straight from her heart. Dotty, on the other hand, beamed her approval of the poignant speech. "Well said, dear."

Amanda nodded, grateful for the support. "Mother, I had a very long day and a late lunch; if you don't mind, I'd like to skip dinner and turn in for the night."

"Of course, Darling."

Clasping her trembling hands, Amanda held her head high and made a hurried exit before a flood of tears could spill from her eyes. Facing the terrible void left by her husband, she couldn't wait to shut out the world and weep into the pillow that still held his scent.

Settling into bed, she listened to the rumble of distant thunder and watched the jagged bolts of lightning flash in the ominous sky. Without Lee's powerful presence, the lonely night loomed like the brewing springtime storm. Whatever dire force threatened the sanctity of their marriage, she'd better prepare to wrestle her despair into submission. Hopefully, in a few weeks, her husband would find his way back to her empty arms, and their separate pathways would flawlessly merge once again.

* * *

 **TBC:**

** **Song Reference** : **"I'll Be Seeing You."** Lyrics by Irving Kahal and music by Sammy Fain. Published 1938.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Predawn - Tuesday Morning**

 _Caught in the throes of a nightmare, Amanda frantically drove through the dark streets as thunder boomed overhead and lightning lit up the Virginia skyline. Pushing the gas pedal to the floor, the Wagoneer sent deluges of water in all directions as she raced toward Dulles International Airport. She'd hoped for a miracle but the pounding rain seemed more like the handiwork of malevolent being, determined to sabotage her last chance to catch Lee._

 _Nearing the airport parking, she came to an abrupt stop as traffic stalled in lakes of rainwater. Abandoning her vehicle, Amanda held a trench coat over her head as she sloshed through deep puddles in her mad dash to find her husband. Her soaked nightgown and water logged fuzzy bedroom slippers felt like cement weights as she tramped through the terminal and checked the board for departing flights to the Soviet Union._

 _"Now boarding at gate 22," came a voice over the intercom. "Flight 4357 to Moscow."_

 _Hurrying along the concourse, she approached the crowd at check-in and spied her husband standing in line. "Lee," she screamed, desperate to detain him. He spun around, but seemed to look right through her. "Lee, Lee," she shouted again, waving her arm to no avail._

 _Pushing closer, someone bumped against Amanda's slight frame, knocking the trench coat from her shoulders and exposing her sodden satin gown that stuck to her frame like saran wrap. "Oh my gosh," she sputtered as people gawked at her appearance. Lee stared, too, but quickly averted his eyes at the spectacle. Departing the gate, he produced his ticket and made his way down the jet-way without a backward glance._

 _"Lee," she cried one last time as he disappeared from view._

* * *

Waking with a jolt, the haunting dream faded away as she labored to calm her erratic breathing. Studying the numbers on her digital clock, she realized it was only four in the morning. Giving up on her fitful sleep, Amanda donned her robe, and tiptoed down the stairs. After putting on a pot of coffee, she turned to a twenty-four hours news channel and waited for any updates on the political tensions between the United States and the Soviet Union.

She didn't have long to wait. A reporter on CSN quickly brought her up-to-speed on the breaking news entitled "Spies Verses Spies."

 ** _"The United States is sending a contingent of experts to Moscow to thoroughly inspect the compromised American Embassy."_**

Grabbing a pen and Phillip's untouched homework sheet, Amanda began writing furiously as the reporter continued his commentary.

"Darling, what are you doing?"

Once again Amanda was blindsided by her family. "Sssh," she said, motioning for her mother to sit down. "I need to jot down the latest news."

"Oh, do you have 'spy homework?" Dotty asked in all seriousness. "Why don't you tape it, dear?"

Amanda shook her head. "You mean tape over another _MacGyver_ episode? No thanks, I'm in enough trouble with the boys."

The announcer droned on. **_"The president's investigative team will determine whether the embassy will ever be secure. Quite possibly the building will have to be torn down and rebuilt. Such an outcome could take five to ten years."_**

Dotty snorted. "Five to ten years to build an embassy? What are our diplomats doing in the Soviet Union, anyway?"

"Detente, Mother. The United States and the Soviet Union improved their relationship when President Richard Nixon visited Leonid Brezhnev in the early seventies."

"Improved relationships, my foot. The Russians aren't just planting listening devices," Dotty said with a fierce shake of her blonde head. "Mark my words, in order to gain vital information, their female spies are seducing American young men stationed in Moscow."

"You're probably right, Mother," Amanda replied, conscious of a certain American spy who was entrapped by a beautiful KGB agent when he was assigned overseas years ago.

Dotty's suspicions were confirmed by the announcer. **_"The State Department acknowledged nine Americans have been recalled for apparent fraternizing with the Soviets."_**

"We'll there you go, darling; what did I just tell you? They're sleeping with the enemy."

 ** _"Under pressure from Congress, Soviet workers at the embassy have been fired and replaced with American technicians, clerks, drivers, electricians, and plumbers."_**

Dotty appeared thoughtful as Amanda shut off the television. "Darling, I know you'll deny it with your last breath, but do you suppose Lee has been sent to Moscow?"

Amanda cringed. Leave it to the inquisitive Dotty to ask the question that still preyed on her own mind. "Mother, as I said earlier, no one has mentioned his whereabouts – not even Lee. A blanket has been thrown over his entire case."

"I believe you, dear, but the possibility must have crossed your mind. Why else would you be taking notes of a newscast before the crack of dawn?"

"I won't deny that I'm concerned, but Lee could just as well be in England, Greenland, or Iceland."

"Or, maybe, Germany or Austria," Dotty said with a sly grin. "Now that I know you've been making up ridiculous stories for years, I've started to question everything, including the trip to Germany you supposedly won when buying a can of coffee. Can you at least confess to that whooper?"

Amanda wrapped her arms around her mother. "Honestly, I really did find a winning ticket in a grocery store coffee can. However, to be precise, I was later informed that the Agency planted the ticket. That way, I could be more useful to them if I looked and behaved like a normal tourist when I was sent to Germany."

"Humph," Dotty grunted. "And what could appear more innocent than a grandma, mother, and two children taking in the sights? Your spy bosses certainly put the whole family at risk."

"Not really," Amanda reassured her alarmed parent. "American agents provided constant protection by following us around Munich. All I was expected to do was play the role of a tourist while delivering a simple message."

Dotty laughed as she headed for the kitchen and poured two cups of coffee. "For the sake of conveying a message, we all got a free trip to Germany, courtesy of the United States government. No wonder our taxes are so high."

"Yes, Mother," sending four civilians to Europe does seem a waste of tax payer dollars, but the important mission was accomplished and well worth the cost."

"I don't suppose you can share any details?" Dotty asked hopefully. Taking a sip of her steaming brew, she tapped her nails on the stainless steel cook-top as she smiled expectantly at her daughter.

Amanda laughed at the gentle probing as she joined her curious parent at the kitchen island. "Mother, it's all classified information, but I will tell you Lee was one of the agents looking after all of us. He even donned a swimsuit and played a little water polo with the boys in the hotel pool."

"But we were never introduced," Dotty complained.

"That's because you weren't supposed to ever actually meet Lee." Besides, it's dangerous to make public introductions when an agent is working undercover."

"Undercover, huh." Dotty crossed her arms and shot her daughter an incredulous look. "A handsome man in a skimpy swimsuit was certainly drawing attention to himself."

"You do make a valid point," Amanda said, remembering how she could barely take her eyes off of Lee when he swam laps in the pool.

Dotty persisted in her grilling. "Did Lee follow you to the black tie soiree with Baron von Eiger?"

Amanda was caught by surprise. "You actually remember my invitation to the Baron's party?"

"How could I forget? You wore that wild blue and white formal pant outfit that you borrowed from a friend who just happened to be vacationing in Munich. In retrospect, I now assume the owner was another agent."

"Yes, that's true," Amanda said, remembering Francine's dismay when Billy told her she'd need to lend her new original gown to the Agency subordinate.

Dotty was pensive as her mind conjured up more memories. "As I recall, the Baron kept you out all night. I imagine Lee wasn't very happy if you detained him by partying until daybreak."

"Yes, Mother, he was fit to be tied," Amanda said, stifling a laugh. "Actually Baron von Eiger tied us both up all night."

A strange look came over the family matriarch. "You don't literally mean 'tied up', do you, dear?"

"Oh, Mother, what a wild imagination," Amanda teased as she headed for the stairs. "Lee was in a tuxedo and I was wearing a designer original. Who, in their right mind, would tie anyone up at a formal soiree?"

 **Agency:**

By eight o'clock in the morning, Amanda entered the Agency with renewed determination. Somehow she had to find answers, even if the effort involved sidling up to colleagues at the steno pool, lunch room, or the water cooler. Climbing the stairs and entering the Q-Bureau, she found a likely candidate sitting at Lee's desk.

"Good morning, Francine," Amanda said politely. Not expecting a cheery reply, she accepted the cordial nod and paused to place a fistful of flowers in her desktop vase. "Are you Lee's substitute?"

"Not if I can help it," the blonde said with disdain. "Billy broached the idea and tried twisting my arm a little, but I already put the kibosh on that plan."

"But, here you sit."

Francine nodded glumly. "Yes, I agreed to lend a hand for the week, on the condition that Billy wouldn't stick me up here for the duration of Lee's absence." Flashing a sanguine smile, she played down her obvious insult. "No offense intended."

"Of course not." Seeing the perfect opportunity to gather information, Amanda took the plunge. "Francine, I need to talk."

The senior agent set down her pen and pretended to look interested. "Oh, do you need to spill some juicy suburban gossip or do you want to share tips on darning woolen socks and removing carpet stains?"

"Fran-cine, please," Amanda said as she sought to conjure up an extra measure of patience. "I have serious concerns about Lee. I usually hear rumors circulating the bullpen, but, this time, I haven't picked-up any details on his whereabouts. However, my instincts tell me Lee's in the Soviet Union – maybe Moscow. Can you confirm or deny my best guess?"

Francine shook her head and held up her bejeweled hands like a shield. "Amanda, despite my senior status at the Agency, I'm not privy to every top secret. However, I will say your idea has merit. The electronic bugging of the new U.S Embassy in Moscow is one of the most serious espionage cases ever encountered by our government."

"Yes, I know. The Soviets have been stealing secrets right out from under the noses of our diplomats?"

"We're not turning a blind eye," Francine added as she joined Amanda at the coffee urn and waited to fill her cup. "Our government won't allow the Soviets to move into their new embassy in Washington until ours can be fixed in Moscow."

"Tit for Tat, huh?"

"Absolutely. Ever since construction of our new embassy in Moscow started in 1979, the project has been a disaster. The Soviets insisted on using their own design and their own workers to construct the building. They only allowed our laborers to finish off inside walls, windows and doors."

"Certainly the United States suspected the Soviets would plant bugs?"

"Of course, but our technical experts planned to check all the building materials before the Soviets started. Unfortunately, there were thousands of precast panels to inspect, and our team couldn't keep pace with the construction. They also didn't have the expertise to identify the problems. Our government finally called 'foul' and fired the Soviet workers."

"So, is the building a total loss?"

"That's yet to be determined. The main tower with the supposedly secure rooms is the biggest loss."

Amanda shook her head at the dilemma. "So how are the American diplomats functioning now that they know the Soviets can steal sensitive information?"

"They're managing to do their jobs," Francine said as she filled her coffee mug and chose an iced chocolate donut from the offerings she'd provided. "They can still use the old crumbling embassy down the street, and the new compound has a few places that are finished and usable. The diplomatic residences, the basement, and the bowling alley have all passed inspection."

"Bowling alley," Amanda said, remembering the 'Operation Possum' emergency that compelled the Agency to temporarily relocate. Left out in the cold during the move, Scarecrow and Mrs. King were forced to operate from a back room in a local bowling establishment. She sighed at the disconcerting memory. "What a blow for diplomacy. I imagine animosity is running high between the Soviets and Americans."

"Exactly, and, short of starting World War III, we want answers on how the communists managed to outwit us. We not only need to exterminate the bugs, we need to get our hands on the new advances in spyware."

"And I suppose this is where Lee could enter the picture."

"Your guess is as good as mine, but intelligence agents will definitely be involved."

With her coffee cup in hand, Amanda paced the room. "I imagine anyone sent to evaluate the problems could be there for a long time."

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Francine said with a sigh. "If Lee's been assigned to Moscow, he could be gone for the rest of the year. Maybe much longer."

Amanda stiffened at the news. With the latest assignment, the Stetson-King marriage seemed like a figment of her imagination. "I can't help but fear for Lee's safety, especially since Dr. Smyth tends to give him the most dangerous cases."

Francine offered a noncommittal nod. "If our friend is in Moscow, be glad for him. Lee doesn't like twiddling his thumbs when his colleagues are given the heavy lifting assignments. Scarecrow thrives on danger, and he's always willing to risk his life for our country."

Amanda turned her back and gazed out the window as she fought down despair. Maybe her husband did prefer the risk of death over the emotional turmoil of family problems. "I suppose Lee would have bigger fears than being killed."

"Yes," Francine said, her own voice somber as she moved next to her colleague in a rare show of solidarity. "Being captured alive by the KGB would be number one on his list of concerns. That's why agents carry cyanide capsules, so they can be spared the enemy interrogation."

Amanda shuddered at the thought. "I hope to God that Lee has an iron clad cover."

"Don't worry, if Lee's in Soviet territory, he'll be extra careful. Scarecrow is no longer the hotshot rookie picking up questionable women who may or may not be working for the KGB."

Despite her clear knowledge of Lee's past behavior, Amanda blushed.

"Sorry, sore subject," Francine said. "I should know better than to mention Lee's philandering days to the proper Mrs. King."

"It's okay, I'm well aware of his history." Amanda inwardly winced, but managed a smile to bravely camouflage her true feelings.

Francine tried to soften her own demeanor. "Remember, Lee's more mature now. As surprising as it seems, you've had a profound influence on the Agency's bad boy. Unlike the past, our Scarecrow now prefers wholesome ladies with classic beauty. Maybe, he'll recognize an embassy staffer and use the opportunity to rekindle a flame with one of his more dignified former girlfriends."

"Yes, of course, a dignified former girlfriend would be ideal," Amanda croaked in a raspy voice that betrayed her dismay.

Ignoring Amanda's obvious alarm, Francine continued to speculate about the Agency's former Lothario. "I don't have anyone specific in mind, but you know Lee; over the years, he's waltzed dozens of American spies and diplomatic staffers around the Soviet Embassy dance floor."

"Even me," Amanda murmured, remembering her black dress with the spaghetti-straps and pearl buttons that Lee openly admired as he held her close and swayed to the romantic music at a stellar embassy event.

Francine paused to scrutinize her colleague's dejected manner. "Am I detecting smoldering jealousy radiating off Scarecrow's protégé? I thought you had conquered your school-girl crush on Lee."

"Fran-cine, please," Amanda said with a biting retort. "Wherever he is, I'm just concerned about Lee's state of mind and his physical well-being."

"Well, like it or not, if Lee's in Moscow, he'll cope better if he bonds with a trusted friend. In order to survive the dreadful Soviet living conditions, there's nothing as satisfying as another warm body in an unheated apartment on a brutally cold night."

Amanda's heart sank, but she valiantly masked her dread. While she trusted her husband, she couldn't help but wonder if long months spent in a communist country could wear down his commitment to home and family? Just to keep his sanity, would he end up in the arms of a former lover?

"The best agents remain unshackled by family ties," Francine said in all sincerity as she continued her impromptu role of amateur shrink. "To persist in our dangerous business, Lee can't afford to commit himself to one woman. His firm decision to remain a bachelor has served him well over the years."

"Yes, of course," the bona fide Mrs. Stetson agreed, perpetuating her well-rehearsed charade. Ill prepared to hear anymore of Francine's spy psychology, Amanda decided on a hasty departure. Looking at her watch, she contrived an excuse. "I have an appointment with my dentist."

Francine looked skeptical. "You just got here."

"My crown is loose, so my dentist's office promised to fit me in this morning." Grabbing her purse, Amanda practically ran from the room. Maybe her explanation was a total fib, but claiming a dental emergency was superior to listening to Francine advocate for spies shacking up with casual lovers.

Rushing by Mrs. Marston and disappearing into the elevator, Amanda rehearsed yet another alibi for Mr. Melrose. Having disappeared the day before, the man had every reason to put her on suspension. If she wasn't careful, she could find herself sitting at home each day, nursing her fears about her husband.

My gosh, her short two-month marriage to Lee felt like the Hundred Years War. How many other brides could say they were shot on their honeymoon, lived miles apart from their husbands, provoked the animosity of family members, and were abandoned at the Jefferson Memorial by their bridegrooms in favor of a lengthy stay in the Soviet Union? "Some marriage," she said to herself. She certainly didn't feel married. Nothing about her newly-wed status remotely resembled wedded bliss.

As the doors of the elevator slid open, there stood Mr. Melrose, already looking peeved before she could utter a word. Guiding her into the privacy of the conference room, he confronted the remaining half of field section's best team. "Francine just called from the Q-Bureau. It appears you're giving the Agency the shaft again."

"Sir, I was planning to see you before I left. You see, my tooth is loose . . . "

"Stop, please sit," Mr. Melrose said, choosing to pace the length of the room. Then dropping an envelope in front of her, he watched as she pulled out some pictures. "You and Lee were spotted yesterday leaving the Jefferson Memorial, practically at the same time. Apparently you disobeyed my order and saw Scarecrow before he flew out of Dulles. To say that Dr. Smyth is livid would be a gross understatement."

"I'm sorry, sir," she murmured. "However, Lee told me nothing."

Clear annoyance was etched on Billy's face. "But you tried to find out, anyway."

"That's correct," she said with an uncharacteristic taste of venom on her tongue. Despite her sense of contrition, anger flared within her, and she was helpless to stop the scathing rebuttal that flew from her lips. "Sir, you know full well that Lee and I have a unique connection. As his partner, I find it unreasonable and cruel for the Agency to mandate that we remain apart before he leaves on a lengthy overseas mission."

"You've been steeped in the rules, Amanda. No exceptions, even for you."

"And you know it's not in my nature to simply allow my partner to disappear from my life," she snapped. "Lee would do the same for me."

Stunned by her audacity, Melrose stiffened and glared at his defiant employee. Then with heroic control, mastered by years of butting heads with stubborn colleagues, he reined in his own temper. Heaving a sigh, Billy pulled up a chair and studied her through perplexed eyes. "What's really going on, Amanda? I'm beginning to suspect you need more time for recovery. Your return from sick leave may have been too soon, both physically and emotionally."

Still gripped by hostile emotions, Amanda stubbornly refused to relent. "Sir, I feel fine."

"Your conduct has been anything but fine, Amanda. Dr. Smyth is talking suspension, but I'm holding that action at bay for now. Instead you'll be removed from the field and temporarily placed on desk duty until you can be evaluated again by Dr. McJohn and Dr. Pfaff. I also want you to take some time off for a real vacation. Maybe you can make some plans with your family for rest and relaxation."

Sitting with her back rigid, Amanda weighed his mandate as her anger dissipated. Finally, she nodded, accepting Mr. Melrose's verdict with mixed-feelings. "I can plan to join my sons for their June camping trip. Joe and his wife have made the arrangements, and they invited me."

"Good, that sounds like something you'll certainly enjoy." Billy offered a tentative smile and hurried toward the door. "Since, I'm not buying your dentist appointment excuse, you can head straight to Dr. Pfaff's office. I'll make sure he'll fit you in this morning."

* * *

 **TBC:**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Moscow – Late May 1987**

Life in the Soviet Union was a relentless test of survival. Six days a week, Lee played his cover as an Embassy electrician while also searching the building for electronic bugs. Each discovery was carefully photographed with his camera wristwatch – the one his Washington informant, Bernie Jakes, had devised when he wasn't busy inventing playthings for a toy manufacturer.

On his way home from work each day, Lee stopped off at the favorite watering hole of Soviet laborers. Many of the men had done the original work on the U.S Embassy in Moscow before Americans wised up to the fact that the place was bugged to the max.

After a few shots of alcohol, the workers were usually loose-lipped about the electronic devices concealed in the building. All Lee had to do was sit at the bar, down a few drinks, and absorb the chatter. As soon as he arrived home, he wrote up notes from the encounters, took pictures of his records, and burned all traces of the evidence.

His mundane evenings were mind numbing. Skirting the imposing Red Square and the Kremlin on his daily trek to the drab high rises, he joined malnourished peasants in endless lines waiting to buy meager selections of food and necessities. More often than not, his dinner was an unappetizing stew made from withered potatoes, limp carrots and something that barely resembled meat.

Watching the state controlled news on television was a total farce and only fueled his temper. Instead he filled the endless hours trying to stay warm and feeding his growing addiction. While he could still handle his liquor, his body now craved cigarettes – a bad habit he never intended to start and one he feared would be tough to break.

Lighting up, Lee propped his feet on the table and thought about the life he left behind in Arlington. He doubted that he could ever be worthy of the love he'd found with his wife. Hell, he wasn't even the same man that she remembered. In his present depressive state of mind, his new identity as Victor Ivankov seemed more real than his old life as Lee Stetson.

He could only hope that someday the lost relationship between Scarecrow and Mrs. King could be restored to its former glory. So far, their short marriage felt like one test after another. Well, to pass the tests, he had to take the tests, and he had every intention of measuring up to whatever the universe threw his way. "Hold on, Amanda," he said aloud, relishing the sound of her name as it rolled off his lips. "Please don't give up on me."

* * *

 **United States Embassy in Moscow**

Lugging his toolbox, Lee retreated from one of the embassy's tower rooms. His day had proved fruitful. Working undercover as an electrician, he'd managed to study new intricacies of the surveillance operation.

He couldn't help but marvel at the ingenuity. Interconnecting systems were so sophisticated they couldn't be removed from steel concrete columns, beams and precast floor slabs. Wires, the width of a human hair, were planted inside window putty or under a coat of paint. There were resonating devices that allowed the Russians to monitor precisely both electronic and verbal communications.

Grabbing his coat from a locker, Lee made his way to a side exit. For some odd reason it was locked and the guard was gone. His only choice was to sign out with security and leave through the main entrance – a liberty usually denied to embassy laborers.

Outfitted in dusty coveralls, he felt conspicuous as he noted dignitaries and their entourage gathering inside the ornate vestibule. Stepping around the crowd, Lee recognized congressional representatives and deputies from the State Department. The Secretary of State, George Shultz, may have left the country, but others were trolling for the latest information on the beleaguered embassy.

Hugging the wall, Lee tried to leave unobtrusively. Instead someone behind him spoke. "Quitting time?" a feminine voice asked in a familiar lilting tone.

Whirling around, Lee was confronted by his former girlfriend, Leslie O'Connor. Stunned, but skillfully playing his cover, he pretended not to know the diplomatic translator. Nodding politely, he pivoted on his feet and hurried toward the massive front door.

Not deterred, she followed him out. "Sir," she said. "You dropped something."

He stopped in his tracks and inspected his toolbox before turning back to Leslie. "No, ma'am. Everything is here."

"Lee," she whispered. "I know it's you. Your beautiful hazel eyes are unforgettable."

For a moment he simply stared at the woman as his brain raced with dueling options. Walk away his mind screamed, but his gut told him to reach out. Maybe she'd help him get a message to the home front. "We can't talk now."

Leslie quickly opened her purse and retrieved a pad and pen. Scribbling something on a piece of paper, she covertly handed it over. "There's a Russian Tea Shop around the corner from my hotel."

Lee glanced at the proffered note and stuck it in his pocket. "Tonight at eight o'clock," he whispered as he turned to leave. He couldn't help but smile. Leslie's dark beauty, intelligence, and compassion reminded him of his wife.

* * *

 **Streets of Moscow**

Dressed in a blue pinstripe shirt, dark slacks and a leather jacket, Lee felt almost human again. Instead of hanging out in bars tonight, gleaning information from inebriated Russian laborers fired from the embassy, he welcomed the visit with an old friend. Still in deep cover with his short cropped hair and Van Dyke beard, he counted himself damn lucky to talk to someone from home. He should have guessed that Leslie O'Connor may show up in the United States Embassy. After all, she'd been to Moscow before as a diplomatic translator for the START talks.

Pleased by the turn of events, but cautious of his surroundings, his senses remained fully engaged. The sudden crunch of footsteps on gravel signaled trouble. It wasn't the first time he'd been followed. Often KGB details intended to be conspicuous to warn outsiders to play by their rules.

Tonight was different, he'd changed his usual pattern and his association, and now the risk was greater. He'd have to shake his tail or abandon the plans for any contact with Leslie.

Lee's shoulders hunched against the cold as he quickened his pace. Rounding the corner and ducking into an alcove, he readied his gun while watching for a reflection in the store window.

Two men hurried passed, brandishing weapons of their own. The gangly frame of one pursuer jarred Lee's memory of two Soviet cases-Atkins Chemical and a hostage exchange near Harper's Ferry. "Gregory," he mumbled as he recalled the man he'd put away for attempting to kill the Agency founder, Harry V. Thornton. Surely the KGB was onto his game, and his old nemesis was leading the hunt.

Taking a convoluted route, Lee finally made it to the busy cafe and the booth far in the back where Leslie sat drinking a cup of tea. He was no sooner seated when she grasped his hand and leaned across the table to kiss his cheek. The reminder of their intimate encounters, a lifetime ago, warmed his face and pricked his conscience. The dichotomy of his feelings surprised him. His Scarecrow persona permitted a warm smile, but the authentic Lee Stetson deliberately pulled his hand away.

Leslie's heady perfume wafted through their shared space. "I'm thrilled to see you again, even though you never kept your promise to join me at an embassy event. Well, not until today. It's funny how hopes are fulfilled in their own time and their own way."

"Yeah," he responded, wishing their conversation would move to safer topics. "I guess 'hope springs eternal'."

Leaning closer, she continued on the same track. "Other than a few casual dates for embassy social events, I haven't been seeing anyone since you swept me off my feet in Washington, nineteen months ago. There just hasn't been any . . . well, you know, chemistry."

Raking nervous fingers through his hair, he reluctantly met her gaze. "Sorry," he said, with honest remorse. "With your assignments in Paris, Geneva, and The Hague, I imagined you met many eligible bachelors. You certainly deserved someone better than me."

"You mean better than a spy?"

Her pointed look provoked a nod of admission from Lee, but he remained mute. God, she'd figured out his secret. He always knew she was one smart lady.

Waiting for her barefaced revelation to leave its mark, she seemed to relent. Slowly, her lips formed a sweet smile, indicating all was forgiven. "You're not the first intelligence agent to begin a steamy romance and then disappear like a phantom in the night. I can't fathom how any agents ever marry and have children. Given your career path, I imagine marriage to a colleague would work the best."

"Humph," he grunted, the Scarecrow straight face revealing nothing.

Unfazed by his silence, she continued the one-sided conversation. "Speaking of colleagues, how is Amanda King?" Her teasing eyes dared him to take the bait.

"I haven't seen her in a long time," he confessed, sparing any details.

She chuckled. "You two were certainly good at exchanging verbal barbs. I feared your neighbors would call the building super when you argued in the hallway."

"That bad, huh?" Discouraging further discussion about Amanda, Lee feigned interest in the menu. Pretending to study the offerings, his mind drifted back to the fall of 1985 and the fateful day his partner discovered Leslie O'Connor preparing a surprise romantic dinner at his apartment.

* * *

 _Amanda's emotions were written on her face when she was introduced to Leslie. Her expression morphed from curiosity, then to embarrassment, and finally to fury. When he unceremoniously rushed her out the door, Scarecrow's Mrs. King unleashed a deluge of frustration. With arms crossed in a defensive posture, Amanda opened fire. "She's very nice, but not your type. She's a normal person. She will never understand what you do."_

 _"She can guess what I do," he defended, only exacerbating her defiance. "She has a top security clearance from the United Nations. That's what makes it so perfect."_

 _As potent as a summer storm, Amanda's anger shocked him._ " _We could watch O'Keefe," she_ _insisted, referring to their commercial fishing assignment. "But, oh no, you have better things to do."_

 _"Go straight home,"_ _he said, effectively dismissing the very woman he'd invited to his apartment to discuss their case and have a bite to eat._

 _Moving toward the elevator, she threw his exact words back in his face._ " _Go straight home-school, grocery store, dentist, and then straight home. Story of my life. I've never been to the U.N. Never been on the road to Moscow. The only Haig I know is that guy who was Secretary of State."_

 _"Amanda, you go home," he repeated, knowing full well she was apt to disobey orders._

 _She had the last words as the elevator doors closed. "Not this time, Buster."_

* * *

Lee shook his head at the disconcerting memory. Recalling the painful period in their relationship was gut wrenching. He still felt the shame of their bitter argument and his partner's hurt feelings.

However, having the two women meet wasn't all bad. Seeing them side by side had opened his eyes. Hell, he'd been dating an Amanda look-alike when he should have been pursuing the genuine Mrs. King. Guilt had hit like a sucker punch. He'd been dishonest with himself and Leslie. Even worse, he'd disappointed Amanda. In truth, Lee Stetson had been a royal ass.

Hearing the shop door open with a jingle, he abandoned the poignant memories and turned his head to study the crowd. "Dammit."

"What's wrong?" Leslie asked as she followed his gaze.

"We have company," he said, pointing toward the gruesome duo coming through the door. "They work for the KGB, and they play rough."

"Oh my." Sliding closer to the wall, she looked to Lee for instructions.

Regretting the impulsive decision to meet her, he reached for his jacket. "Listen, it's me they want, so I'll lead them out of here."

Before he could retreat, she grabbed his arm. "Lee, I want to help you."

He vehemently shook his head. "It's too dangerous. Give me a chance to disappear and then casually return to your hotel."

Doubt clouded her eyes, but she nodded in agreement.

Without a second glance, Lee bolted down a dark corridor toward the exit. Finding the back outlet locked, he drew his gun and fired. Hurried footsteps approached as he pulled the door from the jam.

"Darling, wait," a feminine voice called. "I'm going with you."

Unwilling to ditch the innocent diplomatic translator, Lee grabbed Leslie's hand. Breaking into a run, he pulled her along the dark alley. God, if she hadn't slowed him down by inserting herself into the chase, he could have made a clean getaway.

Hand in hand, they fled passed backyards and back fences while barking dogs heralded their escape. With Gregory and his comrade shouting warnings from the rear, the pounding of boots on pavement alerted them to reinforcements up ahead.

Searching for another route, Lee slid to a stop. "This way," he yelled, bashing his fist into to a boarded window. Shoving the startled Leslie in ahead of him, he thwarted the enemy once more. Snaking through the warehouse, they played cat and mouse with their pursuers.

"You're surrounded, Scarecrow," Gregory warned. "It would be such a pity to kill you. You have a wealth of information to share in exchange for your life."

"Shush," Lee whispered to Leslie, his hand over her mouth to silence her whimpers. Not wanting to give away his location, he simply waited for a break.

Someone moved closer, but remained unseen. "I'm surprised tonight's lady friend is not Amanda King," Gregory called. "I don't think she'd approve of your new partner. If it's the last thing I do, I want KGB headquarters to interrogate Scarecrow and Mrs. King. Grilling you two would be such sweet revenge."

Random gunfire echoed through the building, and Leslie screamed.

"Aha, your companion is more squeamish than Mrs. King."

Hell, he'd need to act now or submit to capture. Opening fire, Lee created a diversion and bought them some time. With exits blocked, he chose the stairs. Grabbing Leslie's waist, he crouched low and propelled them forward.

Footsteps hammered concrete as the enemy closed in, so Lee fired again. Reaching the top, he pulled Leslie into a room and bolted the door. Rushing to the long row of windows, he searched for a way down. Finally cornered, he made the crucial decision.

"Cover your eyes," he ordered. Then wrapping his arms around her lithe frame, he heaved them both through the window. With shards of glass falling with them, they plunged to the pile of cardboard and styrofoam discarded directly beneath them. Rolling them off the trash, Lee raced Leslie toward the street.

The rumble of a trolley car caught his attention. Maybe this was their last hope. Hearing the brakes screech as the streetcar stopped for the traffic light, he quickened the pace. Banging on the door, he announced their presence. The driver waved them away, but Lee persisted. Finally relenting, the man opened the doors, and they climbed aboard-just seconds before the KGB stormed the intersection.

* * *

Collapsing onto the backseat, they were ignored by the few passengers who lined the front of the trolley. No one wanted to acknowledge a scene played out every day in the communist stronghold.

Waiting for his breathing to even out, Lee rehearsed tough choices. By himself, he'd rather be killed than allow the Soviets to capture him. But now with Leslie onboard, he had to consider her safety. Certainly the KGB would prefer to take them both alive. Between the two of them, they held enough secrets to betray other agents and their country's vital information.

God, why had he agreed to meet Leslie tonight? Clearly her presence was a handicap to his assignment and jeopardized her security and career. And that wasn't all. He was gambling away his personal life, too. Any association with the diplomatic translator risked losing Amanda's unfailing trust in him. While he had no intention of breaking their marriage vows, he knew the capture or death of Lee Stetson and Leslie O'Connor could be viewed as a lover's assignation. Traveling Moscow with an ex-girlfriend had betrayal written all over it.

Despite his personal reservations, he focused on the needs of his companion. Placing a protective arm around Leslie, Lee asked the burning question. "Are you all right?"

Her usually expressive eyes seemed vacant as she nodded her head. "So, this is a sample of your daily life?"

"Multiply tonight's fiasco by fourteen years and you get the picture. Aren't you relieved I disappeared from your life?"

"I wouldn't say, "relieved," she said as a flicker of the sweet Leslie emerged through her terror. "However, I don't anticipate the spy business will ever try to recruit me."

Lee cringed at the thought. Certainly Leslie O'Connor was no Amanda King. "Hey, we dodged the KGB and the bullets; that counts for a lot."

"So, is the mayhem over?"

"Not by a long shot. We need a place to hide for the night." Feeling the shudder that racked her body, Lee took pity on her fragile composure. "I promise to get you out of this hell. Tomorrow, I'll deliver you safely back to the embassy, and then I'll disappear."

She nodded absently, probably not trusting any words he uttered.

Scanning the streets along the trolley line, Lee watched for an acceptable hideout. Spotting a neon hotel sign, he nudged his partner. "What do you think?" he asked.

Leslie was skeptical. "The better question is, "what will people think if we show up without luggage?"

"Where have I heard that before?" Lee mumbled.

"The building doesn't resemble a hotel," Leslie said with trepidation. The place seems to be abandoned."

He was willing to take the risk. "There's a light on the first floor; maybe it's the hotel office. Let's get off at the next stop." Pulling the cord, he helped Leslie rise from the seat.

After exiting the trolley, Lee put his arm around her shoulders and attempted to explain the rationale behind his choice. "In the Eastern Bloc countries, factory workers often stay in dormitories on the attic floor. When a factory closes, it's not uncommon to turn the living space into small hotel rooms for a bargain rate. It's probably our best bet tonight."

"Fine," Leslie replied, obviously too tired to care.

As they entered the tiny lobby, the somber man on duty kept his eyes averted. Avoiding any niceties, he pointed to a list of prices posted on the wall.

Lee handed over the rubles and was directed to the stairs. Trudging up five flights and down a dingy corridor, the twosome found the assigned room. Opening the door, their jaws dropped at the bleak surroundings. "Oh no," they said in one accord.

At least the accommodations offered two beds, but that was the only positive feature. In the corner stood a shower with a flimsy curtain and a drain in the floor. Next to the shower stood a sink and a toilet within full view of the entire room. "God, look at this place."

Even the normally cheerful Leslie failed to conjure up an optimistic attitude. "The room doesn't even offer towels."

"Talk to the lamp," he said.

"What?"

Moving closer to the light, Lee spoke to the socket. "There are no towels or soap."

Within seconds, heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs and soon a hard knock hit the door. Hospitality was non-existent as the scowling desk clerk shoved two thin towels and a cake of soap into Lee's hands before departing without a word.

Closing the door, he whispered in Leslie's ear. "The place is bugged."

Her eyes grew wide, but she nodded her head in understanding.

Lee stood closer to his companion and spoke softly. "We'll get a few hours of shut-eye and then flee this dump before dawn. If we wait for daylight, it may be too late."

Quietly they moved about the room. Finding sheets stored under the couch cushions, they made up the beds. Then, offering the minimum of privacy, they turned their backs to each other as they prepared for sleep.

Hearing Leslie turn on the shower, Lee stripped to the waist, grabbed a blanket, and collapsed on the hard mattress. Kicking off his shoes, he turned toward the wall and allowed the tug of drowsiness to transport his mind thousands of miles away to the sprawling Arlington suburb and a special brunette who longed for his return.

Slumber had all but claimed him when he felt a supple body fit around the contours of his back and damp locks brush against his face. As he stirred from the vestiges of sleep, Amanda's sweet face faded from his dream. Instead he awoke to the darkness as the voice of a former lover whispered in his ear. "I hope you don't mind, but I need your arms around me tonight. I'm scared to death."

Disoriented by the contact, Lee reeled from her touch, only to find himself trapped by the wall. "Leslie, we can't," he said, flopping to his back and running shaky fingers through his hair.

"Sssh." Undeterred, she leaned over him, so near that a wisp of breath caressed his neck. "Darling, we've been apart for way too long. Tomorrow may separate us again." Immediately her lips met his mouth with a searing kiss.

Abruptly turning his head, he grasped Leslie's bare shoulders and blocked her efforts to move closer. "Listen, there's something I have to tell you," he hissed. "I'm sorry for not confessing sooner, but you need to know that I'm married now."

She gasped and rolled away. "Amanda?"

"Yes."

"I should have guessed you two were a couple," she said, her voice choked with disappointment. "All the signs were there when you brought her to your apartment."

"Listen, we never really dated until after you met Amanda. A year and a half ago, we were only partners and friends, not lovers."

"But, you were in love, even then?"

"No . . . yes," he said, fumbling for the right words to define the chemistry that sizzled every time Scarecrow and Mrs. King came within twelve inches of each other. "We recognized there was a growing attraction between us, but a romantic relationship seemed impossible given our separate lives. Super spy dating super mom was too high a hurdle to jump. At the time I met you, Amanda and I had never admitted how we felt about each other."

"So, that made me a substitute for the woman you really desired," she said with a hint of anger.

"Leslie, I was attracted to you from the day we met."

"You mean until you saw your colleague and me together. Admit it, Lee, you even called me, Amanda."

"Yes, I saw the similarity when you two stood side by side. The encounter in my apartment was a real jolt. I finally realized I couldn't keep denying my feelings for Amanda."

"When did you marry?"

"Last February," he whispered. "Our secret marriage has been complicated from the get-go. We've lived apart and tried to catch-up with each other on the fly. No one at our office knows. Even Amanda's mother was unaware of our elopement until I was assigned to Moscow."

"Are you sorry you married your colleague?"

"Not at all. Marriage to Amanda is the best thing that ever happened to me."

Silence followed as Leslie folded her arms across her breasts and inched closer to the edge of the bed. "Lee, I apologize for trying to reinvigorate our old affair. I'm not usually the forward type, but, despite the terror, the whole evening has been a tantalizing rush. I thought we needed each other."

"Yeah, I know," he agreed. "The threat of dying can drive people together."

Leslie sat up and placed her feet on the floor. Her voice was barely audible as she whispered over her shoulder. "Tonight's hand-in-hand, heart-thumping chase inflated my fantasy of winning Lee Stetson. I suppose there's nothing like an adrenaline rush to boost a girl's infatuation with a secret agent."

"Humph, even my wife thought danger, excitement, and intrigue were a thrill when we first met. However, once she grasped the lousy side of espionage, it's astounding that she didn't run away and never look back."

"So she stayed and eventually won the prize," Leslie said with wry laugh. "Now that I know about Amanda, I really do wish the best for both of you."

"Thank you. And I wish the best for you, too."

Moving to the other bed, Leslie whispered, "good-night." Then leaning across the divide, she added, "Lee, I'll keep your secret."

"I know you will." Turning his back, he sighed with relief. It felt good to admit the truth about his marriage. Leslie deserved an explanation, and he desperately needed to tell someone.

* * *

 **Near the United States Embassy**

Dense fog hugged the earth, providing the perfect camouflage for fleeing through the streets of Moscow. With his cover blown, Lee's main concern was removing Leslie's from harm's way. Another hundred yards and she could be sheltered by the American Embassy.

Lee, on the other hand, may be stranded in the cold. He wasn't sure he could trust the diplomatic envoys to believe his story? Accept for an outside contact he'd met upon arrival, his real identity as a federal agent was unknown. What's more, he had Leslie all tangled up in his web, too. She could be accused of being his accomplice.

Within sight of the American consulate, Lee halted their progress. Ducking in between two buildings, he spelled out his plan. "We're more likely to be caught in the enemy's crosshairs if we're spotted together. I'll stay here to cover you on your walk to the embassy. Once you're secure, I'll move to safer ground."

"Safer ground?" she asked, concern etched on her face. "Won't you let the embassy harbor you?"

"No, I have a contact who paved my way into the Soviet Union, and he'll need to know what's happening to me. He will decide from his end if and when to get me out of the country."

"Lee, I'm confident my diplomatic colleagues would be willing to help you. They're sending me back to Washington in a few days; they could make arrangements for you, too."

His jaw clenched with aggravation. "Leslie, I'm not here at the discretion of the embassy. I'm here in deep cover on a complicated mission. Just because things got a little hot, I can't make the decision to go home."

"But surely your superiors don't want you captured by the KGB."

"Humph," he said, blowing out a ragged breath. "In my business, there is a mandated solution when faced with capture. It's called suicide."

Leslie's jaw dropped. "But, last night, you risked capture."

"I had a compelling reason to hold on."

"Oh, my," Leslie gasped. "You mean you jeopardized national security to save me."

He merely looked away.

"Lee, if you're half the man that I think you are, your spy headquarters won't want to lose a top-notch intelligence operative."

"In truth, I don't think my immediate supervisor knows any details of my assignment. My orders originated higher up the command chain than our field agents' section chief. If I just show up in Washington, even if the embassy cleared the way, I could be accused of dereliction of duty. Even worse, the head honcho in my espionage game may label me be a double agent. He could claim I handed over my secrets to the KGB in exchange for returning to the United States."

Leslie looked thunderstruck. "So, there won't be a hero's welcome home for you."

"Nope."

She gripped his arm in a show of concern. "Lee, let me help. There must be something I can do?"

"Yes, there is," he said with a sense of urgency. "I have a favor to ask."

"Anything."

"When you get back to D.C., I want you to visit Amanda."

* * *

 **TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: Arlington, Virginia, June 2, 1987**

Lightly caressing the image of her dear husband's face, Amanda set her wedding photograph on the family room bookcase. While her sons couldn't recognize the event as a marriage ceremony, the memento from her secret wedding was a poignant declaration that the couple pictured together truly loved each other.

Polishing the silver frame had become a sacred ritual since Lee vanished from her life. Two months had passed without hearing the soothing timbre of his mellow voice or seeing his wide dimpled grin and sparkling hazel eyes. There'd been no sheltering embrace of his powerful arms, and no sweet surrender to his intoxicating kisses. The endless wait for his return meant excruciating loneliness in their Q-Bureau office and total isolation in their marriage bed, or, more correctly, beds—wherever they'd enjoyed stolen moments as Mr. and Mrs. Stetson.

Hearing the ring of the doorbell, Amanda stiffened at the interruption. How many times had her hopes risen only to tumble again when she opened the door to yet another disappointment? The very effort of greeting people had become a burden when Lee repeatedly failed to materialize on her front step or back patio. Even worse, she feared the day would come when she opened the door to Mr. Melrose, only to be informed of her husband's demise.

"I'll get it," Dotty called as she swiftly came downstairs. Thankfully, she was tuned into her daughter's melancholy and gladly accepted the role of buffer between Amanda and the relentless parade of visitors to their front door.

The mingling of feminine voices caught her attention. Mother was allowing someone to breach the threshold. Tucking a few stray tendrils of hair behind her ears and forcing a welcoming smile, Amanda prepared to greet the intruder. Maybe, on this gloomy Saturday, a little socializing would lift her sagging spirit.

"Darling," her mother said as she led the way down the two steps. "You have a visitor from the State Department."

"Hello, ah, Mrs. King. I hope you remember me."

"Oh my gosh." When the diplomatic envoy gracefully entered the family room, troubling memories of an enamored Lee and his sweet girlfriend flooded Amanda's mind. With brunette hair pulled back in a bun and smart business attire concealing a lithe frame, there was no doubt to the identity of her guest. "Les-lie," she stammered. Shaking off her discomfiture, Amanda stepped forward to proffer a polite handshake. "How nice to see you again."

"It's lovely to see you, too," Leslie responded as her eyes scanned the disarray of videogames and sports gear scattered around the boys' domain. Finally allowing her gaze to settle on Amanda, she seemed a bit taken aback by her pink and purple "Hot Mama" t-shirt and threadbare blue jeans.

Amanda cringed under the scrutiny. Leave it to Lee's former girlfriend to show up when the household was in the midst of spring cleaning. Curtains from the French doors were piled in one chair, and the carpet was rolled up like a log in the middle of the floor.

"Your home, family, and demanding career must keep you very busy," Leslie said with a hint of envy. "How old are your children?"

"Phillip is fourteen and Jamie's twelve." Crossing her arms over her chest, Amanda tried to hide the tacky t-shirt. Certainly the well-traveled, Ivy League educated, diplomatic translator had little experience with suburbia's casual dress code. "Please excuse my outfit. My boys gave me the shirt for Mother's Day, two years ago. I never wear it in public."

"What thoughtful children," Leslie replied with an unconvincing smile.

"Yes, they are," Dotty defended. "Amanda's sons even nominated her for a 'mother-of-the year' contest. She would have won, too, if the bug exterminator hadn't shown up when one of the judges surprised us with a home inspection."

"My mother tends to exaggerate the dubious accomplishments of her only child," Amanda said with a wry grin. "Actually, I was just an 'also ran' contestant." Grabbing the feather duster from the coffee table, she handed it to her beaming parent. "Mother, if you don't mind, Miss O'Connor and I need to have a little chat."

"Of course, darling." Pulling the vacuum cleaner behind her, Dotty headed for the kitchen. "I'll make some coffee."

"Thank you, Mother." Motioning her guest toward a wing back chair, Amanda's imagination conjured up a myriad of reasons for the visit. Had Leslie seen Lee? She was, after all, working for the Department of State. Maybe Leslie had once again befriended him. Gosh, was there more to it than friendship? Or, no, maybe Lee was hurt or missing or dead. Dear God, her frantic mind screamed. Please let my husband be alive. Lowering herself to the sofa, Amanda braced for answers. "Well, what brings you to Arlington?"

The slight tremor of Leslie's hands betrayed the seriousness of her surprise appearance. "Lee sent me."

Amanda closed her eyes to the revelation. "You've seen Lee?"

"Yes, in Moscow. I was sent to the United States Embassy as a translator. He was working there undercover as a laborer and using the name of Viktor Ivankov."

"You know about . . ."

"Yes, I guessed at his profession, but he provided no details of his espionage career."

Amanda nodded, afraid to interrupt and worried about the information not yet revealed. "Is he all right?"

"Yes. I mean, I hope he's okay. The last time I saw Lee, he was on the run from the KGB."

Her heart sank at the news. "Then you don't know for sure?"

"No, but I am certain Lee's in deep trouble. Apparently he's stationed in Moscow on a more or less permanent basis. He doesn't expect to be sent back to Washington unless a senior national security official can intervene on his behalf. Lee hopes you can warn your section chief who, in turn, may persuade top bureaucrats to review his assignment."

"Oh, Lord." Amanda's heart thumped wildly in her chest. Just as she feared, Dr. Smyth wanted her husband gone for good. If he was ever coming home again, it would be up to her to convince Mr. Melrose of Lee's predicament and hope to God he'd take Scarecrow's banishment all the way to the President of the United States.

For a long beat, Leslie dropped her gaze, apparently hesitant about further disclosure. "I have a confession to make," she said softly. "Maybe you don't want to hear it, but I was taught to own up to my mistakes and make amends."

Leary but determined to know the truth, Amanda patted the sofa cushion and beckoned for the diplomatic translator to move closer. "Oh, no, here it comes," she murmured, preparing for a bombshell involving her husband.

Taking the offered seat, Leslie leaned toward Amanda as if they were co-conspirators. "Lee wasn't very forthcoming about his circumstances," she continued. "In retrospect, I believe I unwittingly crossed the line."

"Oh?" Glancing toward the kitchen, Amanda caught her mother's eye. Dorothea West's curiosity was on high alert, and she'd given up all pretense of food preparation in her effort to catch every word of the conversation.

Prolonging the suspense, Leslie enfolded her delicate hands in her lap and quietly cleared her throat. "When I approached Lee at the embassy, we agreed to meet secretly at a Russian teahouse. While there, we were interrupted by the sudden appearance of the KGB. I naively interfered with his escape attempt and ended up being yanked along on a desperate run for my life."

"I can well imagine your alarm," Amanda said, remembering her early terrifying encounters with the dashing spy.

"Well, as you certainly realize, Lee would never leave a damsel in distress. Before the night was over, we took refuge in an abandoned factory hotel. The tiny attic guest room lacked even the barest of amenities and privacy, but at least we could shower and sleep."

"How convenient" Amanda repeated, swallowing the derogatory remark that stuck in her throat.

With a meek nod, Leslie shuddered. "Normally, I'm not the forward type, but, despite the terror, the whole evening was a titillating rush of one death defying feat after another. I suppose you recognize that flirting with death awakens all the senses, especially when a handsome spy protects your body with his own."

"Yes," Amanda said, the word sounding raspy to her own ears. Outwardly calm, but inwardly distraught, she bravely maintained a neutral demeanor. "I understand that people cling closer when confronted with their own mortality."

"Too close, I'm afraid." Shame clouded Leslie's eyes as she unburdened her guilty conscience. "I was frightened and in desperate need of comfort. Since I had a romantic history with Lee, I ignored the second bed and crawled under the covers with him . . . ."

"Coffee's ready," Dotty interjected as if refreshments could halt the revelation and protect her daughter from more emotional turmoil.

Amanda held up a hand, signaling for her mother to wait. "I think I get the picture," she said curtly, remembering Francine's recitation on the sexual ethics of spies. "You don't have to finish the story."

"Oh, but I do," Leslie said, a bright crimson spreading over her cheeks. "When I woke him up, Lee rejected my physical advances and told me the truth about marrying his partner." Embarrassed, she allowed an awkward moment to pass. "I should have guessed Lee and his so-called 'secretary' were a couple. The chemistry between you two was obvious on the day I met you at his apartment. I feel so foolish now."

"It's not your fault." Relieved by the admission, Amanda found the will to breathe again. "A year and a half ago, neither one of us was ready to admit our true feelings for each other. I didn't think we'd ever own up to our mutual attraction. After all, what would a confirmed bachelor spy want with a suburban mom, meddling neighbors, sibling rivalry, and . . ."

"And a mother-in-law," Dotty supplied from the kitchen.

Leslie smiled at the family banter. "Even in October of 1985, you and Lee were obviously in love. When I heard your argument in the hallway, I realized you were already bickering like an old married couple."

Finally the tension dissipated, and Amanda relaxed, feeling reborn as the truth unraveled. "I need to apologize for all our secrecy," she said, fully cognizant of Leslie's dilemma. "Unfortunately our mystery relationship denied you closure in your life with Lee."

"True, we never officially broke up," Leslie concurred. "However, that doesn't excuse me from throwing myself at your husband. Rest assured, Lee is completely loyal to his country and his wife. His last instructions to me were very explicit. His exact words were, "Tell Amanda I love her, and I promise to find a way home."

Speechless, Amanda clasped her hands over her heart as her mother rushed to her side.

"On that positive note," a delighted Dotty said, "let's celebrate with coffee and some good 'ole American apple pie'."

* * *

 **Agency: June 4, 1987**

William Melrose and Amanda King watched from the section chief's office window as Dr. Austin Smyth stormed through the bullpen with a cigarette holder clenched in his teeth.

Billy shot Amanda a cautionary frown. "Well, the old man didn't waste any time getting here."

"No, sir." Quickly, she moved to the sofa and braced for the fallout. Mr. Melrose stood sentry in front of his desk, his body so rigid that it appeared chiseled from stone.

Barging through the door, the Agency director polluted the air with a cloud of smoke. "Ah, King is here, too," he said with menacing glee. "I can settle the whistle blower snafu with only one lecture. Field section should know by now that I abhor people who sabotage my authority, so I assure you both there will be a hefty price to pay."

Billy held his ground as Dr. Smyth loomed over him like an imposing Roman pillar left standing in ancient ruins.

"Et tu, Brute?" the old man accused. "Your betrayal stabbed me to the core."

With anger simmering just below the surface, Billy jutted out his jaw in defiance. "By keeping me out of the loop, I couldn't trust you. Therefore when I received word of your actions, I immediately sent the details through the national security pipeline. With the KGB's discovery of Scarecrow, the life of our best agent was at stake. I knew you didn't give a rat's ass what happened to Stetson. He's a loyal patriot, man; Lee would swallow cyanide before he'd hand over one secret to the Soviets."

"As well he should," Smyth replied. "I sent Scarecrow on an important mission, one he was uniquely qualified to fill until he started playing 'patty cake' with a State Department translator."

Billy bristled with contempt. "Miss O'Connor spoke on Lee's behalf as a friend–nothing more. Even she saw the assignment could bury him in the Soviet Union. Your vendetta against Scarecrow handicapped my department and placed Lee Stetson at unreasonable risk. You, Dr. Smyth, had no right to go over my head."

Smyth stood like a rock, allowing nothing to soften his hard-nosed resistance. "Don't forget, Melrose, you contradicted my actions with the Stemwinder case. I informed you then that more flagrant disobedience would have serious consequences. Now you've undercut my command again by taking the case all the way to the president's desk with nary a peep of warning to me."

"Sir, if you'll excuse me for interrupting," Amanda said, ready to shoulder some of the blame.

"I will not excuse you, Mrs. King," he said with blistering outrage. "Espionage isn't child's play. You, 'Miss Everything Nice', pamper your spy associate like an indulgent mother. Or should I say a 'love-sick teenager'? I haven't figured out your emotional attachment to Scarecrow, but I surmised you couldn't let him leave the country without some motherly instructions and maybe a little 'hanky-panky' in the bargain."

Shocked by the uncouth insult, Amanda suppressed a scathing retort.

"Hold it, Austin," Billy protested as he leaned forward and crowded the director's space. "Your assessment of Amanda is totally inappropriate. Mrs. King is a model of propriety and an outstanding partner to Lee Stetson."

"Melrose, you're overly attached to your agents. Unlike your biased defense of the teacher's pet, my judgement remains objective." Glaring at his section chief, Dr. Smyth exhaled smoke from his mouth like a fiery dragon.

The room was deathly still while the threesome guarded their thoughts and emotions. Finally Billy spoke. "Before we digress further from our pressing agenda, let's return to the matter of saving Stetson's life."

"By all means, state your rationale again before I pronounce your sentence," Dr. Smyth replied as he dropped cigarette ashes into the coffee cup sitting on Melrose's desk.

Poker-faced, Billy valiantly kept his cool. "The broader intelligence community agrees with my decision to recall Scarecrow. Stetson was chosen for the Agency's D.C. hub for valid reasons. Except for occasional assignments overseas, his expertise and seniority are greatly needed right here in our nation's capital."

"He's an international spy, Melrose," the Agency director countered. "He's supposed to be my pawn to move wherever I see fit." Outwardly perturbed, Dr. Smyth began to pace the confines of the office. Suddenly turning on his heel he offered a sinister grin and began to spout from his mental cache of nursery rhymes.

 _"Ring Around the Rosy_

 _Pocket Full of Posies,_

 _"Ashes, Ashes,"_

 _We All Fall Down"_

Billy and Amanda exchanged incredulous looks.

Smyth ignored their disdain. "Rather gruesome poetry, I'd say when you consider the source. Certainly you're familiar with the Great Plague in London during the sixteen hundreds. Did you know the symptoms of the disease included a rosy rash in the shape of a ring? Pockets were filled with sweet smelling herbs called posies to ward off bad smells. The 'ashes' refer to the cremation of the deceased! Mrs. King, I imagine you sang the death lyrics to your two boys when they could barely walk and talk."

Amanda cringed, wondering why the director of an intelligence agency behaved like a deranged Mother Goose.

"Austin, what exactly is your point?" Melrose asked with escalating impatience.

"Tsk, tsk, children. Must I spell it out? Like the rhyme, we're all 'falling down'. It took the Great Fire of London to kill off the rats that carried the plague. Likewise, the Cold War calls for extreme measures. We won't defeat communism by wishing it away. Some people have to step into the fray and that means utilizing our best agent. Understood, kiddies?"

"No sir," Amanda said with bitter resentment.

Billy shook his head in blatant disapproval. "Condemning Lee to a suicide mission will solve nothing."

With his back rigid and eyes blazing, Smyth unloaded his fury. "I've had enough of your impudence. Starting Monday, I'm suspending both of you for two weeks without pay. Next time you're tempted to blow the whistle, you'll think twice before undermining my authority." With a mock salute, Smyth flung the door wide and scurried out of sight.

Mr. Melrose blew out a breath while Amanda sat mute. Taking the nearest chair, Billy gathered his thoughts. "Don't worry, our director won't be suspending us."

"Sir, Dr. Smyth was pretty clear."

"I feel it's best to let him blow off steam, but he'll soon realize he can't discipline us in this case. By the time he gets back to his office, the letter signed by the president will be sitting on his desk. In essence, he'll be told that Leslie O'Connor and the two of us have been pardoned for any breech of protocol."

Amanda smiled. "What about Dr. Smyth; could he be fired?"

"I doubt it, but let's hope his latest screw-up has been a lesson Austin Smyth won't soon forget."

"And what about Lee?"

"Dr. Smyth will be forced to reveal his contact, and the person will be instructed to get Scarecrow out of the country as soon as possible. If Lee's been captured alive, we'll try to make a trade, but let's hope he's still a free man."

"Amen, to that, sir."

* * *

 **Moscow – June 19, 1987**

Lee Stetson could hear the plane before he saw it. Russian Aeroflots were incredibly loud, and even one rattletrap flying overhead could shake the walls of the terminal. With the area shrouded by rain and fog, the flight was already an hour late. If the nasty weather continued unabated, the airport may cancel all arrivals and departures.

'Dammit', his nerves were so on edge, he could barely stand still. Pacing, Lee craved a cigarette, but resisted the temptation. If he had the slightest chance of fleeing the Soviet Union tonight, he wanted to kick the habit and put the whole protracted assignment behind him.

God, he'd be lucky if the KGB didn't grab him before he flew out of Moscow for Stockholm, Sweden. For weeks, he'd laid low and, thanks to his contact, changed his appearance and his identity. Now sporting gray hair, a mustache, wire-rim eyeglasses, and a tweed sports coat, he was playing the cover of a distinguished University professor without ever having to teach a class.

His cover and his fluent Russian had given him access to the university crowd. Just in the last week, he'd rubbed shoulders with brilliant faculty members at a symposium. Relying on his finely honed listening skills, Lee gleaned facts he'd never known before-facts about technological advances in surveillance and insights into how the Soviets masterminded a plot that fooled the most admired nation on earth.

At least now he had the chance to return home with dignity. Along with the information he'd collected as an embassy electrician, he possessed substantial evidence to show for his efforts. Thanks to Leslie's message to the home front and the initiative of Amanda, Dr. Austin Smyth couldn't accuse him of dereliction of duty when he returned to Washington.

"Come on, come on," he murmured, impatient with the flight delay and worried about being discovered while on the cusp of escaping the Soviet Union.

Suddenly, double doors opened, and a blast of rain blew into the terminal along with Soviet soldiers and their leashed dogs. Walking up and down the passengers' waiting area, the canines sniffed every bag in sight. Meticulous guards demanded official papers from everyone and pulled some people aside.

Now he was really in a tight spot. In his rush to reach the airport, he'd hastily thrown his university notes into his travel bag. The only thing that separated his evidence from discovery were the pages of an old " _People Magazine"_ that enclosed his conference records.

As a soldier held out his hand, Lee wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead and handed over his bag. Stay cool, he reminded himself. Don't blow it now.

A message came over the intercom. "Flight 634 to Stockholm is now boarding,"

Lee caught the eye of the soldier and pointed toward the gate. Disregarding the urgency, the would-be captor yanked the " _People Magazine"_ from his flight bag and began to thumb through the pages. Always prepared with items to bribe guards, Lee took a chance. "Keep it," he said, casually retrieving the notes that slipped from the bottom of the publication. With a slight of hand, he slid them inside his trench coat's inner pocket.

The soldier nodded and rolled up the magazine. Then letting Lee pass, he hurried on to the next person.

Boarding was only the first hurdle. Arriving unscathed at Stockholm was a vastly different matter. Even if the airline had a daredevil pilot willing to take off in rough weather, Aeroflot's safety record was the nightmare of every nervous flier. The planes leaked air like a sieve. The trick to delivering passengers alive to their destinations depended on pressurizing the cabin by pumping air in faster than it could leak out.

Lee knew full well that during the Cold War years, many travelers spent their final moments strapped into an Aeroflot seat. Far too often, the airline's planes fell from the sky. Lee could only hope he wouldn't be another unfortunate fatality.

* * *

 **Arlington, Virginia - June 21, 1987**

"Mom, I can't find my sleeping bag," Phillip called in his best irritating adolescent whine.

"Look in the top of the hall closet, sweetheart." Distributing an armload of clean laundry on the boys' beds, Amanda methodically prepared them for the King family's wilderness adventure.

Ambivalent about the trip, she'd put off making a decision on whether or not to accompany her children. The family could certainly benefit from her camping and rafting skills, but, with no sign of Lee, she didn't want to leave Arlington. After two and half months of separation, she ached to welcome her husband back, if indeed he could make it home at all. Even though the Agency had received a coded message verifying his flight from Moscow two days ago, his whereabouts had dropped off the radar.

Dotty appeared in the doorway. "Darling, Let me help the boys get organized. You haven't begun to pack for yourself."

"Mother, I still haven't agreed to go."

Crossing her arms, Dotty's rigid stance confirmed her exasperation. "Amanda, you can't mope around the house waiting for Lee to come home. Since your boss already approved your time off, you need to go. This isn't the dark ages; someone will notify you when he's found."

"Please, Mother, just give me some breathing room," she said with clear annoyance. Tight as a drum, her frayed nerves were ready to snap. Sinking to Phillip's bed, Amanda buried her face in her hands, trying to breathe deeply and regain control of her temper.

"I'm sorry," Dotty said as she sat next to her daughter and rubbed her back. "I do understand your dilemma, but I think a change of scenery would do you a world of good. You said yourself, Lee could be laying low for a few more days. And since there's been no announcement about a plane crash, you have every reason to stay positive."

Patting her mother's hand, Amanda pretended to appreciate the hopeful outlook. "True, his plane was probably forced to land due to inclement weather. However, Lee may still be in Soviet territory. We just don't know anything for sure, and the waiting has become unbearable."

"Remember the old saying, 'a watched pot never boils.' Time will pass quickly if you're occupied with your family."

"Please go," a sullen voice called from the hall.

Amanda cringed as she spied her youngest hovering in the doorway. Good Lord, when did Jamie start listening to their conversation? Holding out her hand in a gesture of inclusion, she tried to make amends as he ventured closer. "Sweetheart, I do want to go with you, but circumstances at work may conflict with going out-of-town."

"Mom, I know you'd prefer to wait around for Lee," Jamie said as his face contorted with frustration. "That proves you like him better than us." With a look of betrayal, the boy bolted from the room, slamming the door with enough force to rattle a baseball trophy from its perch on the desk.

Picking up the pieces of Phillip's coveted award, Amanda surrendered to her family's demands. "Well, I guess that settles it, Mother. I'm going with the boys."

* * *

 **TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Soviet Union  
**

Desperate measures were called for as Lee sought to escape the Soviet Union. His Aeroflot plane trip from Moscow to Sweden was a bust. Forced to alter the route due to inclement weather, he'd ended up in the Russian city of Leningrad. With the airport heavily guarded, he decided to risk a taxi-cab ride to a modest hotel. In yet another dingy room, he spent a restless night photographing his symposium notes and destroying his paper trail.

Out of reach of his contact, he was on his own to plot a new exodus through the Iron Curtain. The Aeroflot destination had been Stockholm, Sweden, where he could board a western airplane for Washington D.C. However, given his detour, he might better settle for Helsinki, Finland. Maybe traveling over land by bus and train would be less conspicuous than risking the higher profile air travel from the USSR. Unlike Sweden, Finland managed to stay above the Cold War fray by cooperating with their Soviet neighbors without embracing their tactics or succumbing to domination.

The train station looked like a scene out of the movie, _Doctor Zhivago_. Every open space was occupied by hordes of people. The elderly sat in listless resignation, while young friends and lovers nestled close to each other in stoic silence. Even nervous tourists, traveling in groups with their Soviet Intouris _t_ reps, remained tight-lipped. Soldiers were everywhere, and they executed their duties with the vigilance of maximum security prison guards.

Feeling as tall as the Statue of Liberty and just as American, Lee searched for any means to harmonize with the huddled masses. Sudden chaos grabbed his attention. Only twenty feet away, an apparent mother pulled her suitcase and a wailing toddler through the station entrance. Clothed in dated, yet classy attire, she moved with an understated grace that hinted of a cultured past. Maybe she was a good match for his university professor cover.

Waving a hand and calling out a Russian greeting, Lee pretended to know the rail-thin, thirty-something woman. Moving toward her, he offered a reassuring smile and a free hand.

Taking a step back, the woman hesitated at his intrusion. However, as an observant guard advanced toward them, she quickly overcame her reservations and nodded her approval.

Reaching to retrieve her luggage, Lee was blindsided when she lifted the baby girl and thrust her in his direction.

Startled, he warily accepted the agitated youngster. Now what, Lee thought as the child sensed his uneasiness and screamed louder. Bouncing the towheaded girl on his arm and patting her back, the beleaguered spy slowly gained control of the situation.

Finally ceasing the struggle, the curly haired tyke perused her keeper. Blue eyes, still flooded with tears, studied Lee's tense smile and apparently found a redeeming quality. Satisfied, the toddler heaved one last shudder and laid her head upon his broad shoulder.

The child's apparent mother barely had time to purchase tickets when a loud speaker announced "the all abroad."

Committed to his new cover, Lee balanced the toddler as he wrapped his free arm around the woman and nudged their way through the tight throng of humanity. Boarding the train, he searched for seats that would allow the pretend family to remain together.

Finally situated, the woman smiled at Lee. "Oksana," she whispered, pointing to herself. Then touching the child who still snoozed against his shoulder, she introduced her baby. "Tatiana," she said, with the distinctive adoration seen in mothers from every nation, class, race, and creed.

"Tatiana," he repeated. Then holding up two fingers, he guessed at the child's age.

Oksana nodded.

Lee poked his thumb against his chest. "Vladimir," he whispered, using his university professor alias. Cautious in the crowded passenger car, he decided to keep conversation to a minimum. Touching a finger to his lips, he relayed the message.

The mother's silence confirmed her agreement. Obviously exhausted, she laid her head against the seat and closed her eyes.

As Oksana dozed, Lee weighed his predicament. Dammit, he didn't know anything about toddlers. With no siblings, cousins, or children of his own, he'd rarely been around babies, let alone held one. What if Tatiana woke up and created another disturbance?

Still in the midst of grave danger, he felt the tug of parental responsibility. Shifting his burden as if moving a priceless Ming Dynasty vase, he placed the little girl on his lap and studied the innocent face. As Tatiana snuggled closer, he felt an aura of amazement grip his frame. Tentatively, he stroked a finger across her soft rounded cheek and marveled at the small miracle in his arms.

If only Amanda could see him now, she'd be proud of his new role as a captivated, but skittish, babysitter. Maybe they should seriously consider the tabled baby discussion. Despite the willingness of his wife and the warning that her biological clock was ticking, he'd been hesitant to introduce a new life into their troubled world.

Now, after his long exile, the possibility seemed more appealing. However, before they could add a baby to their family, he needed to hone some parenting skills with his two adolescent stepsons. God, he hoped he possessed some innate talent to be a good father. So far, the evidence was sorely lacking.

His musings abruptly dissipated as the train ground to a halt. Bracing for a new confrontation, he realized they must be close to the Soviet and Finland border.

The noise didn't wake Oksana, but Tatiana stirred. Barely raising her head, she merely clamped her tiny hands around his arm and fell back to sleep.

Glancing out the window, Lee saw barbed wire everywhere and watch towers with snipers, armed and ready to shoot. Guards with dogs hurried along the side of the train. Overhead, heavy footsteps stomped across the roof of the passenger car. Soon soldiers stormed the aisle, checking every compartment and searching through each piece of luggage.

Within minutes, two guards loomed over Lee and roughly yanked him to his feet with the baby still in his arms. God, were they aware of his true identity? Reaching for his credentials, he hoped the identification would pass inspection. Thankfully he'd managed to burn all his revealing evidence. However, if the Soviets examined his watch, they'd certainly discover the hidden camera.

As one soldier rummaged through his bag, another one frisked him. Tatiana woke with a start and began to scream hysterically. With arms and legs flailing at the intrusion, she kicked one guard square in the face.

By then Oksana jumped into the fray, shouting as she warned the soldiers away from her child. All around them, angry passengers protested the encroachment on the small family.

Fully aware of the mayhem they'd created, the soldiers backed off. Flinging the bag back at Lee, the Soviets abruptly left the passenger car.

Relieved by their departure, Lee handed Tatiana to her mother and eased himself to his seat. God that was a close call. At any minute, he'd expected to be hauled off the train. Even worse, the soldiers could have opened fire on everyone.

Staring out the window, he dared to take a cleansing breath as the train passed into Finland. "I'm coming, Amanda," he whispered. "Hang on, I'm almost home."

* * *

 **Arlington, Virginia – June 22**

The big day of the King wilderness adventure finally arrived. Rushing around the kitchen, Amanda tried to prepare breakfast as she packed the last of the food supplies and cooking utensils. When she set a gallon of milk in a grocery bag and box of dry cereal in the refrigerator, the overwrought mom realized she'd been driven to distraction.

Already frazzled, she stood at the bottom of the staircase and called for her boys. "Breakfast is ready." Immediately doors slammed and pounding feet thundered overhead. Appearing on the landing, her sons leaned over the banister and dropped their camping gear into the front foyer with a resounding thud.

"Hey," she scolded. "You know the rules. We don't throw things over the railing."

"Dad's pulling his van into our driveway right now," Jamie said as he stomped into the kitchen in his hiking boots. "I told you, he'd be early."

"Doesn't surprise me a bit," Dotty teased as she ruffled his hair. "Your father has been jumping the gun since his premature birth."

"Dad always says, 'if we snooze, we lose'," Phillip added. "He'll have us on the clock from sunup to sundown."

"Your father is punctual to a fault," Amanda muttered, careful to keep her practiced smile in place. Despite her mixed feelings and Lee's extended silence, she was determine to give the adventure her best effort. Worry over her husband may be her constant companion, but she suspected the whole family would appreciate her experience and training when they encountered the inevitable challenges awaiting them in the wilderness.

Phillip slid onto a kitchen stool and casually poured himself a bowl of 'Toasted Oaties.' "Dad can wait. Nothing is going to stop me from having the most important meal of the day."

"Wanna bet," Jamie hollered to his brother as the front door flew open.

"Good morning, family." Joe appeared in the front hallway, sporting his eclectic clothing apparel. Wearing cargo parachute pants, a 'National Lampoon Vacation' t-shirt, and white socks with sandals, his outfit screamed, 'nerdy tourist'. Waving an "Out of Africa" baseball cap, the usually well-groomed lawyer rallied the troops. "Let's get a move on, people."

"You're early," Amanda chided. Peering around the kitchen doorway, she hoped he didn't notice her attire. Still wrapped in a bathrobe, there was no way she'd greet her ex-husband with a kiss today, especially since her amicable divorce had undergone some badly needed revisions after their Easter weekend debacle. In deference to Lee and Carrie, she had point-blank informed Joe that future affection between the ex-spouses would be very limited in nature. Initially hurt, he'd finally seen the wisdom in her decision.

Eager to keep moving, Joe corralled Jamie and loaded him up with the camping paraphernalia piled in the hallway. "Don't procrastinate, Phillip," he called, ignoring the fact that Amanda wasn't ready either.

Five minutes barely went by before Jamie was out-of-patience with his father, too. "Dad doesn't like the way we packed," he complained as he followed his mother into her bedroom. "He's outside rearranging everything."

"Sweetheart, just grin and bear it," Amanda said as she gave her youngest a gentle shove out the door. "If you hide in here, your dad will barge right upstairs to search for you. Please, spare me the harassment this morning."

"All right," Jamie said, as he reluctantly complied.

Amanda barely closed the door when it opened again.

"Wait until you see Carrie King's get-up," Dotty said with a wry smile as she deposited towels, still warm from the dryer, on Amanda's bed.

"What do you mean by 'get-up'? Joe's new bride is pretty conservative when it comes to fashion."

Dotty shrugged. "Apparently she has a playful side, too. Carrie's wearing a garish pink, boat-neck jersey with a large matching hair bow, harem Capri pants, and platform sandals."

"You're kidding?"

"Not at all. She's looking funky in her eighties fashion choice."

"Really?" Amanda bit her lip as she slipped on her very boring blue jean cut-offs, a red tank top, and canvas sneakers. Suddenly she felt like an old cast-off, replaced by a shiny new, exciting wife.

"Darling," Dotty said, noticing the pall that fell over her daughter. "Are you all right?"

Amanda shook her head as she absently folded the laundry. "I'm just surprised at Carrie's daring outfit. Maybe my clothes are a bit outdated."

"Nonsense, there are enough shoulder pads in your sweaters and blouses to keep you in vogue until the nineties' fads hit the fashion runways. Besides, your denim cut-offs and tank tops never go out of style."

"True, and they're more practical for rafting. If Carrie falls in the river in her harem pants and platform shoes, she'll sink like a rock."

Dotty snorted. "That's assuming she doesn't fall off her shoes first and twist her ankle." Tuned into her daughter's emotions, she placed a finger under Amanda's sagging chin. "I imagine clothes aren't the real issue."

"No," she said, dropping to the bed. "It's hard to feel married when my husband isn't available to prove it. Ever since Lee left, I've felt unmoored in a restless sea."

"I know, Dear. When a loved one leaves, it's like your heart takes flight." Offering a firm embrace, Dotty smoothed down her daughter's hair, just like she did when Amanda was a little girl. "Keep the faith. One day soon, Lee will march in here with his stellar smile and make you feel like a royal princess."

"You're right, Mother. Only the sudden appearance of my husband can revive my wilting self-esteem."

"Oh, Amanda," Dotty said gripping her hand. "I apologize for pushing you into another Joe King fantasy adventure without Lee here to even up the sides. Sharing a vacation with an ex-spouse and his new bride could wear down any accomplished, confident woman."

"I do feel like the odd one out." Pondering her dilemma, Amanda made a decision. "Mother, if Lee should show up while we're in West Virginia, will you ask him to find us?"

"Of course."

"I'll leave a detailed itinerary, just in case. However, even if Lee arrives back in the states while I'm gone, the Agency will have first dibs on him until he completes a lengthy debriefing. At best, he'll be allowed a phone call to talk to me."

Dotty looked a bit deflated. "So, even if you're here when Lee returns, you won't have a chance to wrap your arms around him at the airport."

"No, Mother. Secret agents are never greeted with ticker tape parades. After a lengthy assignment in enemy territory, they slip back into the country in the shadows."

"Well, Lee Stetson is a national treasure in my book, and he deserves a hero's welcome that only his wife can give."

Blushing under the innuendo, Amanda kissed her mother's cheek and rose to go. "I'd better join the group before Joe starts honking his horn."

"Darling, don't forget your umbrella?"

"I have a poncho in case it rains."

"Amanda, I'm not referring to rain. If you want Joe's new wife to dictate your fashion sense, then take an umbrella. Carrie is sporting a parasol."

"For whitewater rafting?"

"Yes, Carrie's trying to pretend she's the Queen of the Nile."

"Oh, Lord," Amanda moaned. "Now I'll be stuck in a time warp, floating down a river with Cleopatra and Mark Antony. I can hardly wait."

* * *

Standing at the front door, a pensive Dotty waved good-bye to her family. It was hard not to worry. Amanda really seemed distracted lately. Until Lee returned, her mind would probably be five thousand miles away. "I hope I'm not feeding my daughter to the wolves," she chided herself.

Caught talking aloud, she was embarrassed when the mailman came through the gate.

"Good morning, Mrs. West," he called as he tipped his hat, revealing a balding head with wisps of blonde hair.

Perplexed by the gangling, rail thin stranger, she made a mental note of his pointed nose and hollowed cheeks. "You're new and very early. Where's Mr. Ott?"

"We traded routes this morning," came the reply from the amicable gentleman. "I'm Buck Sanders. Mr. Ott's breaking in a trainee." Reaching in his bag, he handed her a fistful of circulars.

"What, no bills or letters?" Dotty said as she perused the offering.

"I'm afraid it's only junk mail today." Lingering, he struck up a conversation. "It appears your family just started a trip and left you behind."

"Exactly," she replied. "I can't get excited about sleeping on the ground and whitewater rafting."

"They must be headed to the mountains."

"Yes, they're traveling to West Virginia. Harpers Ferry's National Park will be their first stop for camping, hiking, and rafting. Then they may try some more challenging rapids at other locations."

"Adventurous, huh?"

"Humph," Dotty snorted. "You have no idea."

"Well, nice talking to you," he said as he hurriedly backed away. "Have a nice day."

* * *

 **West Virginia**

When the King family left the hubbub and humidity of the city behind and traveled to the crisp fresh air of the mountains, Amanda felt reborn. Nature was the perfect solace to make the wounded whole. After weeks of unrelenting stress, she could feel her tight muscles relax and anxiety melt away. Even family tensions dissipated as the King clan gawked at the breathtaking West Virginia scenery.

Maybe some people associated the state with coal mining, dilapidated shacks, dusty roads, and moonshine, but the Kings discovered the unequaled splendor of West Virginia. With most of the landscape covered with lush trees, nearly every highway and byway traversed green mountains and fertile valleys. It was fitting that road signs proclaimed "Wild, Wonderful West Virginia."

Even more astounding, the beautiful countryside inspired the monotones among the King group. When they recognized the Mountain State's adopted song on the radio, everyone joined in with the John Denver recording. Lustily, the Kings sang along.

 ** _"Almost Heaven, West Virginia, Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River._**

 ** _Life is old there, older than the trees, younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze._**

 ** _Take me home, country roads, to the place I belong._**

 ** _West Virginia, mountain mama, take me home, country roads." **  
_**

Along their journey, the family visited Civil War battle sites and famous railroad bridges. At Harpers Ferry, they hiked the steep mountain to Jefferson's Rock and enjoyed the awesome view of the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers.

Near the town of Harpers Ferry, a short flat area on the Shenandoah River provided the ideal setting for beginner and intermediate paddlers to learn maneuvering skills from expert guides. Crowded with other novice tourists waiting to learn the art, Phillip whined about boredom while Jamie passed the time taking pictures. "Mom, may I mail my first roll of film to Grandma?" he asked. "She can have it developed before we get home."

Amanda nodded her approval. "That's a great idea, Sweetheart."

Availing themselves of the tranquil weather they set out on their first tentative whitewater experience. The Kings were rewarded with a patient and congenial guide, easy paddling on Class 1 and 2 rapids, and a lazy afternoon to enjoy the stunning scenery. As the family gained skills and confidence, Joe promised the boys more challenging whitewater in the days ahead.

Settling-in at the campground, the Kings pitched three, two-person tents and cooked foil dinners over an open fire. Leading the troop, Amanda realized the trip had revived her old energy. She had only one real regret and that was the absence of her husband. Maybe any day now, he would arrive home, accomplish his debriefing, and join the family on their wilderness adventure.

While thankful for her renewed vitality, sitting around the crackling campfire with her ex-husband and his new bride gave her pause. Usually very discrete in front of the family, Joe and Carrie shed some of their inhibitions as the sun began to set behind the rugged mountains. Warding off the evening chill, they leaned against a fallen log and snuggled in each other's arms while enjoying the fading streaks of daylight.

Uncomfortable as a mere bystander, Amanda tried to blot out the cozy scene by busying the boys with popping corn and toasting marshmallows for "s'mores." After all, what had she expected of newlyweds? Just because her memories of her ex-husband constituted a preoccupied lawyer spouse and an absentee father, it didn't mean Joe couldn't be more attentive in a second marriage.

Substituting a fleece jacket for body heat, Amanda imagined herself snuggled in Lee's arms, watching twilight settle over the Shenandoah Valley. Pretending was a poor substitute for the real thing. Until she could feel her husband in the flesh, crushing loneliness and doubts for his safety would continue to torment her thoughts.

When Joe, Carrie and the boys finally retreated to their tents, Amanda decided to turn-in, too. Unaccompanied, she traversed the path to the rustic community bathhouse with only her flashlight to guide the way. Incredibly, at only ten o'clock, the other tourists were already bedded down in trailers and tents, or just sleeping under the stars.

Night sounds of tree toads and katydids kept her company as she walked along the trail. Lightning bugs blinked their presence, and an owl hooted from a treetop. Above her, the moon cast weird shadows as it shined through the canopy of branches. Feeling very isolated and vulnerable, she quickened her steps.

Arriving at the dimly lit rustic building, Amanda entered the deserted ladies room with some trepidation. Chiding her irrational apprehension, she nonetheless decided to brush her teeth and skip a shower. The spray from the whitewater would have to count as a bath for today.

Taking a calming breath, she stepped outside the bathhouse and fought the paranoia that clouded her judgment. Every instinct told her that danger lurked, but scanning the surroundings with her flashlight revealed nothing.

Stumbling over rocks and gnarled roots on the trail, Amanda hurried toward the safety of the King campsite. With her heart beating wildly, she crawled into her tent and clutched the Bowie knife she'd confiscated earlier from the boys. Armed and ready, she listened for telltale sounds of trouble. Only Joe's snoring and Phillip's cough reached her ears. Finally, as minutes crept by and nothing happened, she concluded there was no logical reason to feel frightened.

"Maybe, I'm having a panic attack," Amanda whispered to herself.

With Lee gone, sleeplessness, anxiety, and irritability had plague her for months. However, in the last couple of weeks, the symptoms had begun to diminish, and she'd started to feel her old confidence returning.

Dr. Pfaff was about ready to clear her for field duty. However, if informed of tonight's panicky episode, she was sure the doctor would insist on continuing her counseling sessions.

Settling into her sleeping bag, she second-guessed her fear. Maybe her uneasiness was truly based in fact. Call it intuition or a sixth sense, something was warning her of imminent trouble. "Lee," she whispered to the blackness. "Please hurry home, Sweetheart; our family needs you."

* * *

 **TBC:**

 ****** "Take Me Home, Country Roads" was written by Bill Danoff, Taffy Nivert and John Denver. The words were derived from a poem written by John Albert Fitzgerald. The song was first recorded by John Denver and included in his record album, "Poems, Prayers, and Promises" in 1971.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine: Air Force Base – June 25**

The military transport taxied down the runway at Andrews Air Force Base in Prince George's County, Maryland. Jet-lagged, but greatly relieved to see his homeland, Lee disembarked and scanned the surroundings for a familiar face. Wishing for a tall brunette to fling herself into his waiting arms, he realized her warm welcome was better suited to a private moment.

Certainly someone had been delegated to meet his plane. Probably two field-section rookies would appear in a standard issue, modest sedan from the Agency motor pool. Given the top-secret nature of his assignment and the fuss he'd caused by finagling permission to return home, he'd be lucky if he wasn't escorted in handcuffs and assigned to an Agency holding cell until a hearing could be arranged.

Much to his surprise, a limousine moved toward him. "Oh, no," he mumbled, certain that Dr. Smyth had arrived to retrieve his wayward agent. Bracing for the fallout, he watched in dread as the dark side window slowly opened.

"Welcome home, Scarecrow."

"Billy," Lee called as relief washed over him.

The normally serious section chief abandoned all formality as a wide smile spread across his face. Exiting the vehicle, he greeted Lee with a firm handshake and an affectionate slap on the back. "Good to have you home, man."

"God, you can't imagine how great it feels. Thanks for cutting to the chase and ending my banishment to the Soviet Union."

"I'm sorry about your exile, Scarecrow." Billy held the door while motioning for his senior agent to enter the limo. "Smyth blindsided all of us."

"I know," he replied, swallowing the string of expletives that were better left unsaid. Their vehicle was no sooner underway, when Lee asked his burning question. "How's Amanda?"

Melrose offered a knowing look. "She's missing her partner, but faithfully keeping the Q-Bureau in good order."

"When do I get to see her?" he asked, the eagerness in his voice betraying his deep-seeded feelings for Amanda.

"I'm afraid the reunion will have to wait until after the debriefing," Billy said, carefully observing his agent. "You know the drill, Lee. You've been gone a long time and suffered physical and emotional stress. Dr. McJohn will need to administer a battery of tests, and then the Agency will need a day or two for the 'Q and A'. The Medical staff will provide you with a comfortable bed."

"Billy, come on, I don't want to be held hostage. I need to see my . . ." He stopped before allowing the word, "wife" to slip passed his lips.

"Who do you need to see, Stetson?"

"Just forget it."

"Did you mean partner, girlfriend, or . . . wife?"

Slack-jawed, Lee faced his boss. "You know, don't you?"

"Yes, I did a little poking around." Billy's expression morphed from authoritarian accuser to affirming friend. "Am I the first to congratulate you?"

Chagrined, Lee accepted the handshake. "Nobody at home or work knew about our marriage until Amanda finally told her mother and Joe King on the day I left for Moscow. Even the kids don't know. We planned to tell you soon, but suddenly I was gone."

"I wish you both owned up to your decision long before now," Billy scolded. "However, for the foreseeable future, your secret is safe with me. I've informed no one about the marriage of Scarecrow and Mrs. King. Eventually, though, you will need to enlighten the Agency."

"How did you figure it out?"

"Don't kid yourself, Lee," Melrose said with a toothy grin. "The mutual attraction between you and Amanda was obvious to nearly everyone who saw you two together on a daily basis."

Lee squirmed. "Maybe, but most colleagues chalked it up as friendship. With me gone, I imagine the gossip died down."

"Just the opposite," Billy countered. "Amanda was visibly anxious about your overseas assignment, and her behavior around me was totally out-of-character. I've known since last fall that something was up between you two, and I never quite bought your February story of separate vacations in California."

"Pretty transparent, huh?"

"Hey, Stetson, the Agency doesn't pay me big bucks to ignore a budding romance between two of my best agents. Therefore, when Amanda was inordinately stressed by your absence, I investigated and turned up a marriage license."

"Did you confront Amanda?"

"Not immediately. Since I'd ordered her to see the Agency doctors, I postponed the conversation until she completed a medical exam and had her counseling sessions well underway."

Alarmed, Lee tensed. "What's wrong?"

Billy placed a fatherly hand on Lee's shoulder. "Dr. Pfaff says she's suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder initiated by February's gunshot wound and then worsened by the loss of her partner. Your abrupt departure overseas apparently exacerbated the problem and temporarily exhausted Amanda's coping skills. Needless to say, I took her out of the field for the time being and placed her on desk duty."

"God, what next?" Lee mumbled as he raked trembling hands through his hair.

"Take it easy, Scarecrow. Amanda has made great strides in recent weeks. She seems relieved that I'm on-board with your secret marriage. And, too, once she learned of your circumstances in Moscow, she's been energized by the focus of bringing you home. "

"So is she cured?"

"Maybe 'cured' isn't the correct word," Billy said, with a hint of doubt. "However, she's managing a lot better now that she understands the trigger for her excessive stress."

"What trigger?" Lee asked, desperate to understand his wife's emotional turmoil. "Is she scared of getting shot again?"

"No, Lee." Melrose hesitated for a beat. "Amanda is afraid of losing you."

"Me?" he said as realization finally hit home. Stymied by remorse, Lee placed his arms on his wide-spread knees and cradled his head in his hands. "I wasn't in the car when Amanda was shot during our honeymoon," he stammered in a voice filled with self-incrimination. "Nor was I at the hospital when she finally awoke from her coma."

"Stetson, you can't blame yourself."

"The hell I can't," he bit back. "Amanda was languishing in a California hospital while I took the law into my own hands, tracked down the shooter, and beat him senseless. Then she was barely moved out of intensive care when I returned to Washington."

"You were recalled by the Agency," Billy countered. "Besides, Dotty West flew out to be with her daughter."

Lee rejected all reason as his repressed guilt spilled from his soul. "God, I shut Amanda out of field work after she healed, and I went home alone to my apartment each night. Worst of all, I abandoned her at the Jefferson Memorial just before heading overseas. Hell, I've let Amanda down from the moment the justice of the peace pronounced us husband and wife."

Billy studied him with somber eyes. "No, Lee, the Agency let you down. For years, you've been treated like a powerful machine instead of a human being entitled to some personal happiness. Actually, I'm delighted that you found the courage to marry Amanda."

"Thanks," Lee said, sucking-up the last evidence of his raw emotion. "I'm grateful for your approval."

"My pleasure," Melrose said with the paternal assurance he reserved for his favorite Agency team. "I'm just sorry you were allowed only two months to be Mr. and Mrs. Stetson before Dr. Smyth severed your ties indefinitely."

"Humph," Lee grunted, the tic in his jaw pulsating with aggravation. "There wasn't much to sever. We missed out on the honeymoon and the wedded bliss stage. God, we nearly went straight to "until death do us part."

Empathy was etched on Billy's face. "I'm sure it was rough. However, I have faith in you two. In truth, you and Amanda were emotionally married long before you made it official. I've been waiting for your union for a long time."

The beleaguer groom nodded, realizing his boss had their relationship pegged from the first time he saw Scarecrow and Mrs. King enter his office. Maybe, despite his fervent denial, Lee had sensed it, too. When he'd grabbed Amanda at the train station and looked into her piercing brown eyes, the lock on his grieving heart had opened. Love may have taken years to grow to fruition, but the seeds were planted that fateful day, and the childhood trauma of orphan Lee Stetson slowly began to heal.

"Are you okay?" Offering a quizzical look, Melrose pulled Lee from his musings. "With all the secrecy, I assume the alien world of husband and stepfather has been littered with minefields."

The reminder of his failed attempts to adapt fueled Lee's anger. "Hell, adjusting to marriage and family proved harder than outsmarting Soviet agents. By living apart, Amanda and I found it difficult to carve out any alone time for ourselves. As for family life, I barely made the team. While Dotty and Phillip welcomed me as Amanda's steady boyfriend, Jamie recoiled whenever I entered their house."

Melrose nodded in understanding. "I imagine step-parenting was difficult, especially when you couldn't lay legitimate claim to your place in the family. Even worse, you had to compete with the boys' idolized father on a regular basis."

"You got that right. Despite missing most of his sons' childhood, Joe could be pompous about his role in the family. Then I'd get testy and slam the door on my way out of the King home. However, at the office, Amanda was the perfect balm to sooth my anger. God, I hope we aren't about to face a permanent split at work."

"Lee, I've always known Amanda could calm your hair-trigger temper. Therefore, I'll do everything in my power to keep your partnership intact."

"Come on, Billy, we can both anticipate repercussions from reversing Dr. Smyth's orders. He already has enough ammunition against Amanda and me. A mystery marriage could obliterate our careers."

"Give me some credit, Stetson. I obtained approval for your reassignment to D.C., so trust me to smooth things over for you and Amanda. Contrary to Dr. Smyth's negative assessment of my methods, I still hold considerable influence in the intelligence community."

Relieved to have his mentor and friend share his burden, Lee released a harsh breath and relaxed into the comfort of the limo. "So, Billy, since you command so much respect, maybe you can arrange for Amanda to see me today."

"I'd be happy to reunite the two of you with a phone call, but I'm afraid she's not available."

"Hell, she's expecting my return. Where is she?"

"Calm down," Billy said, pumping his hands. "None of us could guess when you'd show up, so under advisement from her doctors and section chief, Amanda's getting some rest and relaxation."

"Did you check her into a damn rest home?"

"No, she's on vacation."

"Vacation," he growled as Easter memories came to the fore.

"Yes, she's out in the boondocks somewhere, camping with her family."

Lee balled his fingers into a tight fist as his temper ignited. "God, you mean she's gone whitewater rafting with a bunch of tenderfoots. I distinctly asked Amanda not to go without me." Turning his face away from his boss, the synapses of his brain sprang into action. One way or another, he was going to join her, with or without the approval of the Agency.

* * *

 **Agency: June 26**

For Lee's first overnight stay, the Agency had pulled out all the stops to keep Scarecrow tethered to the medical floor. Alarmed by his high blood pressure, dehydration, and state of exhaustion, Dr. McJohn had prescribed medication, hooked him up to an I.V., and ordered uninterrupted sleep in the infirmary.

Finally waking from a deep sleep, Lee heard footsteps moving about the room. Slowly he recalled returning to Washington and being confined to the Agency. The first word out of his mouth was "Amanda."

"She's not here," a nurse answered. "Amanda King is in West Virginia."

"How long have I been out?"

"You've been asleep for sixteen hours."

"Hell," he said with alarm. Convinced that the King family was in certain jeopardy on a river of doom, Lee bolted upright and attempted to crawl from the covers.

Immediately the nurse pushed the call button and more medical staff sprang into action. Even his section chief joined the fray. "Sorry, Scarecrow," Billy said as he hovered over the patient and held him in place with a herculean effort. "You're not going anywhere."

Lee continued to struggle. "Does Amanda know I'm home?" he bellowed.

Melrose motioned for calm. "Dotty West has been informed of your safe return, but our attempts to contact the King family were unsuccessful due to their remote location and the strong storms that knocked out the power to the mountain wilderness."

"God, I've got to get moving and find them. Anything could have happened."

"Lee, you don't need to panic. Rangers have spotted them on a regular basis. When the rains came, they got off the river and made camp for the night. They're doing fine."

"Are you positive?"

"Yes, Stetson. In two or three days, they should finish their hiking and rafting and start home." Backing toward the door, Melrose pointed a finger at his unruly agent. "If you behave yourself for the debriefing, we'll probably discharge you in time for Amanda's return."

"Then let's start the interrogation now," Lee said as he yanked out his I.V., rolled out of bed, and tugged on his skimpy hospital gown that hardly covered his lanky frame.

"Scarecrow," Billy yelled. "Stay put or I'll have the nurses wrestle you into a straitjacket."

"Don't even try," Lee warned. "If your debriefing team wants answers, then I'm giving them now." Holding the back flaps of the gown together with one hand, Lee pulled his clothes from the locker with the other. "I'm out of here, man."

* * *

The 'Q and A' took longer than expected. By six o'clock in the evening, Lee was chomping at the bit to flee the premises.

Under much duress, Billy reluctantly released him for the night on the condition he'd go straight home and return to the Agency by noon the next day in order to finish his debriefing. To be certain that Scarecrow followed orders, he was transported by agents Duffy and Fielder who were also assigned to stakeout his residence for the duration.

As soon as Lee reached the privacy of his apartment, he set a plan in motion – shave off his mustache, dress for the backwoods, and pack emergency gear. Maybe his colleagues wouldn't search for Amanda, but, come hell or high water, he was going to find his wife and stepsons.

Leaving by the rear exit, he hurried between neighborhood dwellings to pick up his Corvette from the parking garage. Then speeding through the deserted streets, he headed for Arlington. Certainly Amanda wasn't there, but her mother was probably keeping the home fires burning. Maybe Dotty West had crucial information of the family's whereabouts.

* * *

 **Maplewood Drive:**

Relief washed over Lee as he parked the Corvette in front of the charming Cape Cod with the white picket fence. God he was finally home. Memories of the modest abode had kept him sane in the darkest hours of exile.

Years before he'd ever walked through the front door, the light in the kitchen had shown like a beacon, welcoming him in from the cold. Even during his first tentative encounters with the housewife turned wannabe spy, he'd often found himself drawn to the King family as he peered in their window while waiting for Amanda to join him.

The awful loneliness, only an orphan could know, had risen to consciousness as he'd watched the two young boys thrive in an environment of love and understanding. Slowly over months and years, just a glimpse of his favorite suburban mom in action had chipped away at his self-avowed loner status. Gradually his walls of self-preservation had crumbled, and he'd come to abhor the solitary life. Maybe, just maybe, he could learn from his Agency protégé and transform himself into a family man.

Shaking off the poignant memories, he finally exited the car. Old habits beckoned as Lee chose the familiar back patio and a knock on the kitchen door. Aching for Amanda's intimate embrace to envelop his weary body, he was temporarily pacified when Dotty greeted him with a genuine cry of delight and a fierce hug.

"Hello, stranger," his mother-in-law said, using the exact words Amanda often employed when they reunited after separate assignments.

Smiling at the enthusiastic welcome, he planted a kiss on Dotty's cheek as his eyes scanned the cozy surroundings that usually bustled with activity. "How's everybody?"

"I wish I knew," his mother-in-law said with a sigh. "They're still on their wilderness adventure. A phone call from Amanda would relieve my worries, but I guess that won't happen until they return to civilization."

Lee frowned, unable to stop the accusatory words that flew from his mouth. "Dotty, how could you let her go? From what I've been told by my supervisor, she's been kind of . . . fragile."

Dotty snorted at his statement. "My daughter is thirty-six years old. Amanda hasn't allowed me to dictate any of her decisions since she was in sixth grade and hid Debbie Ann Macabie in our attic."

Running a hand through his hair, Lee exhaled a harsh breath. "Sorry, Dotty, I know it's not your fault. I've been on the receiving end of her stubbornness, too."

Patting his arm, she tried to reassure him. "Lee, I recognize that Amanda's been a bit down and anxious, but don't count her out of anything. Certainly you realize she's not the type to be babied. Besides, she's well trained in wilderness survival and even owns a snake bite kit. She's also been certified by the American Red Cross in first aid and water safety. What else could go wrong besides bugs bites, bee stings, and sunburn?"

Lee sighed, the endless scenarios of Amanda's misadventures playing like a loop in his brain. "Dotty, your daughter has a knack for attracting trouble. I just hope to God the family's lazy river adventure doesn't turn into the "river of no return."

Dotty peered at him over the top of her reading glasses. "Lee, darling, Amanda often touts your positive nature. I'm afraid you left your famed optimism in Moscow."

Caught off guard by her reference to the Soviet Union, his mouth dropped open in surprise. "I was on a top secret assignment. How did you find out about my mission?"

Dotty had the grace to look embarrassed. "In case you didn't suspect, let me warn you that I'm a certifiable snoop." With a sly smirk she prepared him for a lengthy ramble. "Ever since Amanda told me the truth about her clandestine life, I've made it my business to pay closer attention to my daughter's activities. When I caught her watching late night newscasts, I joined her for the reports about the United States Embassy in Moscow. Then when a State Department translator showed up on our doorstep, I unabashedly eavesdropped. When it comes to Amanda and my new son-in-law, I'm well within my rights." With a brief pause, Dotty's scolding frown softened into a warm smile. "Welcome to the family, Lee."

"Thanks," he said, nervously clearing his throat. "I assume Amanda's career in espionage and her marriage to a federal agent were quite a shock."

"That's putting it mildly," Dotty said sarcastically. "However, let's save any bloodletting for another day. Right now, you're well-being is my main concern. Lee, you look like you've been through the wringer."

"You've got that right. The Agency's debriefing team has been at me for hours."

"Those government slave drivers," Dotty mumbled as she reached for the coffee pot and filled two cups. "No wonder you and Amanda fell in love. You were with each other day and night."

"Yes, we were practically inseparable," Lee said as he seated himself on a kitchen stool and gratefully sipped his jolt of caffeine.

Dotty fretted over him like a mother hen. "Why don't you go upstairs and sack out in Amanda's bed. Maybe in a few hours we'll have some news from the campground."

Lee was tempted by the offer. "Thanks, but I'm determine to find Amanda and the kids tonight. Besides, my boss won't be happy when he discovers I outwitted my keepers. I'm supposed to be snoring away in my apartment tonight and be delivered back to the Agency at noon tomorrow for the rest of my debriefing."

"Are you always on the run?" Dotty murmured with dismay. "The last time your colleagues showed up here, you and Amanda fled through her bedroom window. I hope we won't have federal agents running around our yard like a gaggle of geese."

Lee laughed. "So, you see my point. I have to leave soon. Do you have any clues to our family's whereabouts?"

"Well, yes, Amanda left you a map and some pamphlets. Before the storms arrived, she called me about some changes in their itinerary. Also, Jamie mailed me a roll of film to develop. Honestly, my grandson took more pictures of strangers than he did of the family."

Lee perked up at the mention of photos. "Let me have a look," he said as he followed her to the family room.

Sitting on the sofa, he thumbed through Dotty's offerings. The benign family poses of Amanda with her boys made him smile, but he snorted when he came across the photo of Joe and Carrie in their off-beat outfits.

The next pictures were candid shots of tourists on the riverbank. The last photo stopped him cold. "It can't be," he murmured. Holding the photo closer to the lamp, he zeroed in on a mysterious twosome, especially the man who towered over the crowd. Hell, could it be Gregory? He wasn't positive, but trouble may be stalking Amanda.

"What's wrong?" Dotty asked with alarm.

Lee transferred the photo to his mother-in-law. "The lanky character standing in the background seems familiar to me."

Dotty perused the picture. "Do you mean _Jack Spra_ t?"

"Who?"

"Sorry," she said, waving off his question. " _Jack Spart_ is a nursery rhyme. You know, ' _Jack Sprat could eat no fat; his wife could eat no lean'._ "

Lee shot his mother-in-law an incredulous look. "Please, Dotty, spare me the Mother Goose."

"Of course, dear. However, the man with the skinny physique is memorable. In fact, he may have been a substitute mailman a few days ago."

Lee's jaw clenched. "Here?"

"Correct. I was out on the front step watching the family leave for Harpers Ferry when suddenly he appeared. It was the strangest thing, because, he only handed me circulars. However, several hours later, our regular mailman delivered letters and bills."

Stunned, Lee closed his eyes to the news. God, danger was marching in lock step with his family.

"Lee, why the long face? Should I be worried?"

Shaking his head in disbelief, he hesitated to fuel Dotty's concerns. "I'm not a hundred percent sure, but I think the gangling giant and the shorter guy next to him are Russians."

"I'm guessing you don't mean friendly Russians?" she said with growing apprehension. "The mailman seemed pleasant enough, but in retrospect I was far too trusting. Heaven only knows how many unsavory people I've warmly greeted at the door over the years."

"Don't be hard on yourself," he soothed in his mellow tone of voice. "In suburbia, it's natural to welcome strangers. Many times you've opened the door to agents, too."

"Humph," she said with a jaded laugh. "I must be a terrible judge of character. Several times, I've tried to turn away your supervisor, Mr. Melrose."

"Billy gets that a lot," Lee replied. "His authoritarian demeanor can be intimidating." Absently skimming through Jamie's photos again, he remembered all the pictures were taken days ago. "Would our family still be in Harpers Ferry?"

"No, they only stayed for two days. Amanda said they'd be traveling to 'The Gorge,' a place with more challenging whitewater. Joe bought a package deal for four days of primitive camping and rafting. Each night they planned to camp along the river."

"Great, they've gone deeper into the wilderness." Burying his nose in the map and pamphlets left by his wife, he avoided Dotty's probing eyes. Consulting his watch, he strategized a plan of action. "If I leave now, I can reach their location before dark. They're probably camping in rough terrain, but ATV rentals may be available for moving people back and forth to the river."

Dotty paced, wringing her hands together. "Are you driving your Corvette?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like to pull it into the garage and take the Wagoneer."

"Perfect," she muttered, almost to herself. "If your spy chums come knocking tonight, I can't plead ignorance – not if your sports car is on the premises."

Lee couldn't help but grin. "Improvise, Dotty. If they show up, you'll think of something to 'throw the dogs off my scent.' Like Amanda, you're a terrific 'black belt confuser'."

Rising quickly, he brushed a kiss across his mother-in-law's cheek. "Trust me," he said as he headed for the door. "I'll find our family and bring them home."

* * *

 **TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten: West Virginia Wilderness – June 27**

After traveling to a remote area, the King family had one enjoyable afternoon on Class 3 rapids before a severe thunderstorm sent them scurrying for refuge on the rocky bank. Then with a second day of inclement weather, they were limited to playing cards under tarps and hiking in between the rain showers. Now everything was a sea of mud.

On the bright side, the trip to "The Gorge" eased Amanda's anxiety. The sense of doom she'd experienced at Harpers Ferry soon dissipated at their new location. With their focus on advancing whitewater skills and hiking rugged terrain, the family was slowly developing into a solid team. Even Carrie had traded her hair bow for a baseball cap and her platform sandals for Nike sneakers.

Early in the evening when the sky cleared, Joe took the boys for a romp in the nearby waterfalls. Not only did the adventure scrub them clean, but their enthusiasm enticed the rest of the family to give it a try. At sunset, Joe and Carrie hiked back to the falls and returned jovial and refreshed after dark.

Now with the family bedding down for the night, it was Amanda's turn to indulge in private pampering. Gathering a towel, soap, shampoo, and clean clothes, she set out to bathe in the great outdoors. With renewed confidence about safety, she felt more daring, particularly since other campers had vacated the grounds in favor of a dry overnight in a rustic lodge.

Unlike her previous lonely trek through a desolate wooded area, tonight's jaunt filled her with heady anticipation. Maybe it was the bright moonlight and the starlit sky that beckoned her forward, or maybe it was the pure pleasure awaiting her under the spray of a gentle waterfall.

Setting her heavy duty flashlight upon a rock, the strong beam enveloped nature's spa. Hidden from view behind the shelter of trees, Amanda slipped off her muddied clothes and stepped into the shimmering water. Immediately, old inhibitions vanished as she unwound from the day's physical challenges. Above her, the falls cascaded down the rock face and splashed into the shallows before forming a chest deep pool that followed an outlet to the river.

The cool sensation was heavenly as she dipped her shoulders under the gleaming surface and swam blissfully around the pond. Then braving the onslaught, she moved beneath the waterfall to wash her body and shampoo her hair.

Refreshed by the invigorating shower, she stepped from the spray and immediately felt vulnerable in her state of undress. Her instincts perceived watchful eyes.

A shadow traveled along the bank, and the silhouette of a man stood tall against the moonlight. My God, she was definitely being stalked. Panic seized her as she crouched in the water and waited in silence.

Only then did she hear a voice calling in the wilderness. "Amanda, it's me."

"Lee," she shouted, the name echoing off the canyon wall. Stunned, she didn't move.

In a heartbeat, he broke into a run, shedding his shirt along the path. Pausing at the edge of the pond, he toed out of his boat shoes and yanked off his jeans. Soon a splash in the water and robust strokes brought him into her desperate arms.

"I can't believe it," she cried against his chest. "You're home."

"I am now." Lee's ravenous lips claimed her mouth and his long fingers raked through her tousled hair. Greedily he kissed across her cheek and down the long column of her neck. "What a sight for sore eyes," he finally mumbled against her ear.

"You certainly know how to plan a reunion, pal." Dazed by the sheer joy of his presence, Amanda allowed her body to dictate the moment. Automatically her arms and legs sought purchase around his frame as his eager hands braced her thighs. In seconds, the two became one.

* * *

Lee carried his wife from the water and set her feet upon solid rock. Then reverently he wrapped a beach towel around her shivering form and pulled her snug against his body.

With teeth chattering, Amanda confronted her husband with a crucial question. "How did you finally escape from the Soviet Union?" she asked, the long-held fear still evident in her voice. "We had a message about your flight; then you dropped off the radar."

Lee rubbed her back to ease the anxiety. "I knew you'd be worried, but I couldn't risk any communication. The plane to Sweden was forced to land due to terrible weather, so I caught a train to Finland instead. I'll tell you the whole story when we get home, but let's just say a baby helped me escape from behind the Iron Curtain."

Amanda's jaw dropped. "A baby, huh?" The very word sounded foreign coming from the lips of Lee Stetson.

"Yeah, a little girl—about two years old," he replied earnestly. "The mother handed me her screaming daughter before we boarded the train, and I was stuck with the tyke the whole trip. Incredibly the baby liked me, but she sure threw one hell of a temper tantrum that scared off the Soviet soldiers."

"And she didn't scare you?" Amanda asked doubtfully.

He offered a sheepish grin. "Well, maybe a little bit."

Amanda wished she could have watched Lee pacify a toddler. "So your list of talents now includes soothing babies; that's certainly news pregnant with possibilities."

He laughed. "Yes, and it does bring the discussion of another child back into play."

Amanda merely smiled, wondering how soon his newfound enthusiasm for babies would wane. "When did you return?" she asked as she brushed beads of water from his glistening shoulders.

He quivered at her touch. "I flew into Andrews Air Force Base the day before yesterday. Billy sent me directly to medical where I slept off jet lag and overall exhaustion for sixteen straight hours."

"Oh, Lee, you probably need more like sixteen straight days of solid sleep."

"I'll be fine, Amanda."

"What about the Agency debriefing?"

"Don't worry," he replied with a noncommittal shrug. "I played by the rule book up to a point. Then I took a short break."

"Oh no. You went AWOL, didn't you?"

Lee pulled back, capturing her eyes as he defended his actions. "Amanda, no one could reach you by phone. I was scared to death you may be in trouble."

"Well, I'm certainly thankful you came." She shuddered, realizing her heartfelt plea in a dark forest did not go unheeded. Somehow her silent prayer from an old canvas tent bridged the insurmountable distance and brought her husband safely to her arms.

"Hey," he said, engulfing her in another tight embrace. "You're trembling; are you cold?"

"No, just a little emotional. I hope you're not in trouble with the Agency."

He shook his head. "Billy will cut us some slack, especially since he knows our secret."

"Yes, he's been wonderful about our mystery marriage . . ."

"And your post traumatic stress," Lee acknowledged, rocking her back and forth in the slow rhythm that always soothed them both. "I'm here to stay, Amanda. If the Agency ever tries to force us apart again, I'll quit in a heartbeat."

"Thank you, Sweetheart," she whispered against his ear as she breathed in the scent that was so uniquely Lee. Then feeling reborn, she questioned him about the home front. "May I assume my mother is covering for you?"

"You bet. Dotty will send federal agents on a 'snipe hunt,' before she'll snitch on me."

Amanda laughed at the image. "Yes, Mother will lead them all around the Mulberry bush if they pressure her too much. I assume she gave you careful directions to _The Gorge_?"

"Correct, and she also loaned me the Wagoneer. I'm beginning to think she has the makings of a spy."

"Please, don't go there," Amanda said with a groan.

Their laughter mingled as they reveled in the shared moment of levity. "So," Amanda finally said. "How did you manage to hike the forest and find me at the waterfall?"

Lee heaved a sigh, clearly exhausted by his long search for his family. "After three hours on the road, I reached The Gorge Lodge. Then I rented an ATV and rode it to the end of the main trail. From there, I hiked a quarter of a mile to your camp. You can imagine my angst when I crawled into your tent and found it empty."

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart." Combing her fingers through his wet hair, she pondered her family's reaction. "Did your invasion of the King campsite wake the others?"

"Only Carrie. She was ready to clobber me with a frying pan until she realized I wasn't an intruder."

"So, did she point you to my destination?"

"Yes, she knew you wanted to bathe," he said, placing his hands around her waist. "Honestly, Amanda, you shouldn't have wandered off alone, especially in the buff. Although," he added with a chuckle. "The image of my delightful nymph frolicking in the midst has been seared on my brain forever."

Despite the damp air, she felt a blush warm her cheeks. "Listen, Buster, please remember to keep this between the two of us. My mother will inquire if you got a proper welcome home."

"Oh, I got that and more. However, to play it safe in the future, you may need to confine your free spirit to the indoors."

She rolled her eyes at his double standard. "Look who's talking. Believe me, Lee, I weighed the risk, but with two adolescents and an ex-spouse sharing the woods, I couldn't wait for broad daylight."

"Yeah, I know." Hesitating for a beat, his head turned toward a distant sound emanating from the forest. "Ssh," he said, placing a finger to her lips. Killing the light, he pulled her behind a boulder.

After soundless seconds passed, Amanda whispered against his ear. "What's wrong?"

"Maybe nothing; I'm just being cautious. Let's get dressed and return to camp," he said, grabbing her t-shirt and lowering it over her shoulders. "I'll fill you when we reach safety."

Pulling on her flannel bottoms, Amanda's concern bubbled over. "Sweetheart, what has you so worried?"

Lee merely shook his head as he zipped up his jeans and slipped into his shoes. Then with gun ready, he handed over the rest of their clothes and nudged her toward the trail. They were almost back to camp before he spoke. "I'm afraid someone is tracking us."

She felt an odd mixture of dread and relief as she grasped his arm like a lifeline. "Then I wasn't paranoid."

"When did you feel paranoid?" he asked, his eyes once again perusing the woods.

Her hands trembled at the memory. "I had a bad feeling a couple nights ago. It felt like someone was stalking me at Harpers Ferry."

Lee exhaled a ragged breath. "Amanda, your instincts were right on the mark. The creep I saw in Jamie's photos, your mother's new mailman, and your intruder may be one and the same."

"What exactly are you saying?"

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. "I'm pretty sure an old Soviet nemesis is after us."

"Who?" she asked, her voice raspy with alarm.

"Do you remember Gregory?"

Amanda shuddered in her husband's arms. "Of course I remember; we bested him twice—once in '85 and again in '86."

"Well, it's payback time." Lee sighed heavily, his hot breath teasing the damp tendrils on her forehead. "Apparently when Gregory discovered me in Moscow, he saw an opportunity to capture Scarecrow and Mrs. King."

"But I wasn't with you."

"No, but in the dark, Leslie O'Connor could pass as you, at least until Gregory had us pinned down in a warehouse and her ineptness gave her away."

Amanda's hands pressed against his chest. "Sweetheart, Leslie visited the house and told me everything."

His body tensed beneath her touch. "Everything, huh?"

"Yes," she said, running her fingers over his cheek. "She even told me that you refused her advances and set her straight about our marriage."

Tucking his gun into the waistband of his jeans, Lee earnestly cupped her face between both hands. "Listen, Amanda, the reason I arranged to meet Leslie at a teahouse was to get a message home to you."

"I know that, Lee."

"When Leslie inserted herself into my escape from Gregory, she nearly got us both nabbed. Only by true grit and pure luck did we dodge his noose. He won't miss this time."

"So, you think he's shifted his focus to me?"

"I do. Gregory's figured out by now that I left the Soviet Union. Certainly he expected me to run straight to you."

Amanda pulled from her husband's arms. "Then he could be stalking our family right now. Lee, the boys . . ."

"They'll be all right," he assured her as they cleared the trees and entered the King campsite.

Together, they took inventory and were satisfied that nothing had been disturbed. Upon scrutinizing each tent, they found everyone breathing and sound asleep. However, neither Lee nor Amanda wanted to let down their guard.

"I'll keep watch, Sweetheart," Amanda said as she led him into her 9' by 9' umbrella tent.

"We'll sleep in shifts," he added, unzipping her sleeping bag and throwing it over both of them. "Wake me in an hour, or as soon as you feel sleepy."

Snuggling close to the warm bulk of her husband, Amanda relaxed into his presence. Lee was home. Maybe danger lurked, but, as a team, they could face just about any of life's challenges.

Silently she catalogued all the little habits that provided comfort whenever they slept together. Lee's breath against her ear was a whispered lullaby and his soft snores were a muted chorus that filled their shared space. His strong thighs cradled her hips, and his long arms held her securely to his chest. She hadn't felt this safe since she was a small child crawling into her parents' bed.

Night noises kept her alert as she fought fatigue. With flashlight in hand, she peered around the tent flap and studied the shifting of shadows. Trees swayed in the breeze and a raccoon scurried away from their stash of food. A furry black creature with a white stripe passed along the forest floor without any evidence of skunk odor.

The chant of the nocturnal whippoorwill blended with the chorus of buzzing insects, croaking frogs, and the babbling brook. Despite her strong resolve to remain awake, nature's music lulled her toward sleep.

At some point, she was roused by movement, but it was only her husband taking on the role of night watchman.

"Sleep tight," he said, brushing her lips with a tender kiss.

"Wake me later," she whispered as she burrowed against his long form and thanked the benevolent universe for his safe return.

* * *

 **Wake-Up Call - June 28  
**

The sound of metal scraping rock jarred both of them. "What the hell!" Lee mumbled as he jerked awake.

"Ssh," Amanda soothed, still on guard duty. "Joe's always the early bird, so he's already up and making coffee."

"Great," he growled as he rolled to his back and pulled the sleeping bag to his chin. "Now the fun begins."

"Go back to sleep," she said, kissing his forehead. "I'll alert him to your arrival."

Hurriedly changing into shorts and pulling her hair back in a ponytail, Amanda crawled from the tent and greeted her ex-husband with enthusiasm. "Good morning, Joe. The day looks promising," she said, noting patches of blue peeking through the lingering fog.

"Maybe for now, but more storms are in the forecast," he countered, failing to muster his natural cheerfulness. "When I walked down to the water's edge, a ranger came by and alerted me to possible dangerous whitewater. He advised staying off the river today."

"We'll have to keep a close eye on the sky," Amanda said as she moved toward the fire pit. Handing over two coffee cups she changed the topic. "Lee caught up with us last night."

"So, I heard," he replied, keeping his tone neutral. "Carrie woke me from a dead sleep, just to tell me the good news."

Studying his rigid demeanor, Amanda detected resentment. "Well, it's certainly good news to me."

Joe slowly rose from his crouch and allowed an expectant pause. "I see you two decided to sleep in the same tent."

"Yes, and the key word is "sleep," she whispered. "Lee's been gone for more than two months and has traveled a great distance to be with me. I certainly wasn't going to leave him out in the cold."

Slapping bacon into a skillet, Joe's abrupt actions betrayed his simmering anger. "Amanda, you haven't revealed your secrets to the boys yet, so why would you taunt them with another suggestion of impropriety?"

Struggling to stifle her temper, she bore the insult with quiet dignity. "Maybe I should have awaken you and asked that we switch places," she proposed with a hint of sarcasm. "You know—one tent for the women and one for the men. Would that have been a better arrangement?"

Joe frowned at her suggestion. "Amanda, I thought we agreed at Easter; this is a family trip."

"And Lee is family."

"Not if the boys don't know," he said with exasperation. "You should have forewarned me that Stetson may show up. Then I'd have packed a fourth tent."

Biting her tongue, Amanda took eggs from the ice chest and began cracking them into a bowl. "You're right," she relented. "The boys will need to be told the truth at breakfast."

"Told what?" Phillip asked as he climbed from the tent and stretched his youthful limbs. Barefoot and wearing a Panama Jack t-shirt and flannel pants, he was still groggy from sleep.

"Get dressed and put some shoes on, son," Joe advised as he exchanged a knowing look with Amanda.

"And, wake your brother," she added. "We need to have a family meeting."

Phillip no sooner disappeared behind the tent flaps, when a large hand pressed against her back. Startled, Amanda jumped at the touch. "Lee, you're awake."

"I suppose the moment of reckoning is here," he said, yanking a sleeveless University of Maryland sweatshirt over his bare chest before proffering a handshake to Amanda's ex-husband.

Joe accepted the offer with an amicable smile. "Lee, welcome home," he said sincerely. "It's time the boys learn your real place in their lives."

"Thanks," he said as he spied his oldest stepson emerging from the pup tent. "Your support will be helpful as we break the news, Joe."

"Hey," Phillip yelled with his over-the-top exuberance. "You're back." Apparently the teen had forgiven any family animosity, because he practically tackled his stepfather with a monstrous hug.

Lee laughed. "Chief, I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

Suddenly all joy dissipated as a sullen face appeared in the group. "Good morning, Jamie," Amanda said in her best chipper voice.

"Hey, Sport," Lee added, his tone a bit tentative.

"Hi." Jamie trained his eyes toward the ground as the toe of his sneaker drew circles in the dirt. Then, nudged forward by his father, he offered a polite handshake to the latest arrival.

Lee grasped the boy's hand and leaned over to catch his gaze. "I'm sorry we didn't work things out before I left town. We'll do better from now on. Right?"

Jamie merely nodded and quickly turned away to accept his mother's embrace.

"Such a touching scene," a familiar voice called from the tree line.

Amanda flinched as two men dressed in khaki t-shirts and camouflage fatigues moved into the clearing. "Oh, no."

"Oh, God, it's Gregory." Too late, Lee reached for his gun that no longer rested in the waistband of his jeans. "Damn," he muttered as he eyed his tent.

With a gun pointed at the group, KGB agent Gregory advanced into the campsite. He was followed by his long-time sidekick, Edgar. "Your little family adventure reminds me of the classic American film, _Swiss Family Robinson_ ," Gregory said in his composed measured voice. "Or maybe Stetson and Mrs. King are more reminiscent of _The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer._ Such an odd pairing in a screwball comedy can be very entertaining."

"Everyone stay calm," Amanda said, noting the startled faces of her children.

"What the hell is this?" Joe demanded. "How dare you enter our campsite with gun drawn?"

"Shut-up," Edgar said as he hurried to Joe's side and pressed a revolver to his ribs.

Carrie, still wearing a flannel nightgown and hair rollers, picked the worst possible moment to exit her tent. "Darling, what's going on?" she asked in alarm.

Motioning for her to join the group, Gregory kept his gun trained on Lee. "Ah, like a circus car full of clowns, the family members just keep coming. Will anyone else pop out of a tent?"

"No," Amanda said curtly.

"Are we being robbed?" Carrie asked, her voice stuttering over every word.

"We're not robbers, ma'am," the tall Soviet answered. "But you extras have become our unwitting pawns." Pressing a finger against his chin, Gregory contemplated his captives. "You could say Mr. Stetson and Mrs. King are my old friends."

"Don't you believe it," Lee growled.

Gregory continued with his speech. "Unfortunately, Stetson and King both ran afoul of old ploys of mine. Thanks to the pretty lady and her partner, I spent six months in a Lubyanka prison for my efforts. Perhaps now, I can even the score and hand them both over to my countrymen. It would redeem my reputation in the eyes of my comrades."

"Hey," Phillip complained, his fingers balled into fists. "Mom and Lee are just government filmmakers. If you have a gripe then take it to International Federal Film."

"Ah, feisty like his mother," Gregory said, turning his gun on the boy.

Like a protective shield, Lee moved in front of his stepsons. "Leave the others alone," he demanded. "Amanda and I will cooperate."

In three long strides, the lanky Russian shifted closer to his prey. "If only it was that easy, Stetson. However, the main road is teeming with tourists and rangers. We'll need to paddle further down river and hike through old growth forest where contacts await our arrival."

"It's too dangerous," Amanda cautioned. "The water level is already high and the rapids are rough. More storms are moving in today."

"Oh, but the King family has been practicing in whitewater," Gregory said in his slow drawl. "Edgar and I watched your progress in Harpers Ferry. How many will fit into your raft would you say—five, six, seven? Maybe one or two will have to stay behind."

Ignoring Edgar's gun poking in his side, Joe stepped forward to argue his losing case. "Let the boys go free."

"And have them run for help?" Gregory chuckled and offered a cryptic smile. "Sorry, I may need them as my sacrificial lambs. Any wrong moves by their elders, and they may suffer an unfortunate accident on the river."

"Why you, scoundrel," the enraged lawyer yelled, throwing a clumsy punch at the predator.

In the same instant, Lee dove for Gregory, wrestling him to the ground.

From behind, Edgar slammed the barrel of his gun against Joe's skull. Knocked unconscious, the King patriarch plunged to the dirt.

Reacting fast, Amanda grabbed the hot coffee pot and bashed the revolver from Edgar's hand. Instantly, she pounced, retrieving the weapon as he withered in pain. "Run," she called to the boys, but, paralyzed from shock, they stayed riveted in place.

With gun pointed at the combatants, Amanda waited for a clean shot as Lee and Gregory rolled over and over on the ground. Encroaching on the fire pit, each fought hard to gain the upper hand. Suddenly Gregory's gun fired and everyone froze.

Amanda held her breath, praying her husband wasn't dead or dying.

Instead, it was Edgar who dropped to the ground, hit in the chest by the stray bullet from his comrade's weapon.

With a herculean effort, Lee got a choke hold on his nemesis, and Gregory's gun fell free.

Unglued by the violence, Carrie rushed the scene and hurled the cast iron frying pan at the struggling pair. Certainly intended for the foe, it grazed Lee's head instead. Stunned, he lost his advantage, and Gregory reclaimed the gun.

As the wailing Carrie dropped to the side of her still husband, the Russian pressed his weapon to Lee's temple. With a fierce glance at Amanda, he gave a final warning. "One false move and I'll pull the trigger."

* * *

In the midst of the horrific scene, Jamie felt detached from reality. Seeing his father throw a punch, his mother point a gun, and his brother shed tears weren't any more likely than passing through some imagined portal in time. If he'd just witnessed the unthinkable, then surely he could be yanked back in time to the Wild West or propelled into the future on a space mission to Mars.

However, his rapid heartbeat and dry mouth were testaments to the scene's authenticity. Blood, gunfire, and mayhem were happening in real time and his family was fighting to stay alive.

Unfortunately, four adults and two adolescents were no match for the man named Gregory. By the time the pandemonium ended, his mother and the tall assailant were the only grownups left standing. Steady and dispassionate, the intruder confiscated the weapons as if the task was a natural everyday occurrence. With an expression vacant of remorse, he confronted his hostages. "Mrs. King, you can play nursemaid to the fallen. I assume the mother of two packed a first aid kit."

"Yes, it's in the tent," she said with only the slightest quiver to her voice. Despite her pinched cheeks and hollowed eyes, she managed to convey a hopeful look to her children. "Give me a minute and I'll find the box."

"No, not you." Quickly, Gregory moved to block her path. "Your youngest son can get it."

"Me?" Jamie asked, his voice sounding like a squeaky hinge.

With the weapon pointing in his direction, he willed himself to act. Stumbling over his own two feet, Jamie reached the tent and crawled inside. What a mess, he thought. His mom's usually neat space was cluttered with men's clothing and a duffle bag he'd never seen before this moment. "Not again," he mumbled, realizing Lee Stetson had spent the night.

"Hurry up," Gregory hollered as he peered inside.

"I haven't found it yet," Jamie said, with more anger than fear. God, at the moment, Lee seemed more like the enemy than Gregory. Moving aside a khaki vest and a pair of men' boxer shorts, he found the first aid kit. About to leave, he paused when his knee bumped a hard object. "Ouch," he whimpered. Then lifting the sleeping bag, he saw it—the gleaming barrel of a small revolver. The weapon must belong to his mother's boyfriend, providing Jamie with yet another reason to doubt the trustworthiness of the documentary filmmaker.

However, something deep inside his psyche propelled him to act. Take it, his mind screamed. Gingerly picking up the gun, he opened the first aid kit and tucked the weapon under packages of cotton balls and large gaze bandages. Maybe, just maybe, his mom would see it and know what to do.

Exiting the tent, Jamie was no sooner on his feet when Gregory frisked him and scrutinized the emergency kit. "Here," he said, tossing the box to his mother who went straight to work like Clara Barton on a Civil War battlefield.

Whatever adrenaline surge or frenzied thought caused Jamie to take a risk, the manic effect wore off quickly. Now he was left with grave doubts about claiming the gun. Fear once again coursed through his body.

In glaring contrast, his mother's courage seemed boundless. While she toiled over the enemy, Gregory took aim at Lee as he moaned and stirred from his stupor. "No tricks or you'll have one less knee cap," the trespasser warned. Then pinning the boys with a harsh gaze, he gestured for them to sit down.

Glaring at his captor, Phillip hurried to his unresponsive father and watched as Carrie used the hem of her flannel nightgown to stem the flow of blood from his scalp. "Will Dad be all right?" he asked, his voice choked with fear.

Deeply distraught, Carrie's lips moved, but no words came from her mouth.

Wishing he was trapped in the throes of a nightmare, Jamie's legs buckled as he reached the picnic table. Once again, he claimed the title of wimp. His stomach lurched and his lower lip trembled at the sight of the slaughter. Blotting out the turmoil, he instead concentrated on the disarray of their campsite. The sagging dining fly flapped in the breeze, bacon greased flared in the fire pit, hungry buzzards circled overhead, and a grand parade of ants marched toward the feast of spilled sugar and raw eggs.

Only his mother's strangled voice pulled his focus back to the deplorable scene. "There's no pulse," she said, withdrawing her fingers from the motionless body. "I'm afraid Edgar is dead."

Unruffled, Gregory took the news in stride. Then with a slight nod, he allowed her to check on the useless Mr. Stetson who still lay dazed on the ground.

Kneeling beside him, she reached a hand beneath Lee's neck and raised his head from the dirt.

Wincing from pain, his eyes fluttered open. "What's happening with Gregory?"

"Nothing at the moment, but he's still calling the shots." Tenderly stroking his hair, her fingers traced a line across his forehead. "You have quite a bump." Then shining a flashlight, she checked his pupils.

"I'm all right," Lee protested as he gingerly sat up. "Carrie's damn missile packed quite a wallop."

She looked relieved. "No vomiting, slurred speech, or memory loss. The signs bode well for your recovery."

"Yeah, but I've got a damn headache." Rotating his neck, Lee tested his range of motion.

"Don't try to stand yet," she advised. "Sit still until you regain your equilibrium."

Not ready for an argument, Lee pulled up his legs and rested his head between both knees.

Jamie watched with trepidation as his mother hurried toward the others. Mute and methodical, she dressed the wound of his father who still remained unconscious.

With thunder rumbling in the distance, Gregory's calm demeanor turned agitated. "We can't remain here any longer," he announced. "Stetson, you and the boys must hide Edgar's body behind the boulders. Mr. King will have to be bound, gagged, and moved to his tent."

Staggering to his feet, Lee beckoned to Phillip. "I need your assistance, Chief." Then turning to the youngest, he placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you up to the task?"

Snapping out of his mental fog, Jamie squirmed under Lee's touch. "We can't leave Dad," he cried, projecting all his misplaced anger into one seething stare aimed at his mother's boyfriend. To himself, he mumbled, "we were doing fine until you showed up. Now look what happened."

Lee abruptly turned away. Then with a nod to Phillip, they labored to move the body of Edgar behind the rocks.

As Gregory supervised their task, Jamie saw his mother pull the gun from the first aid kit, check the ammunition, and secure the weapon inside the pocket of her cargo vest. Wow, he thought. Mom sure learned a lot when she took the self-defense course with her former boyfriend, Dean. Too bad they broke up. Maybe the TV weatherman with his hand to hand combat skills could have come in handy on this trip.

* * *

 **TBC:**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: River Wild – June 28**

Twenty minutes after the rafting party left the safe haven of the river bank, the storm moved in with a heavy downpour. Lightning lit up the ominous clouds and booming thunder rumbled off the rugged canyon walls. Raging currents swept through the narrow straits while powerful swells heaved the tiny vessel up and down like a toy boat.

Gripped by fear, Jamie clung to the side of the raft. With each teeth-rattling jolt from the churning river, screams erupted in his ears - his screams, along with the shrieks of his stepmother, Carrie.

The boy trembled at the madness swirling around him. His mom and brother sat forward in the raft, frantically paddling through the fierce whitewater while a ruthless gunman held the King party hostage. With a pistol aimed at his side, Jamie played a crucial role in the drama. He was chosen as the main target should anyone decide to act the part of hero.

Blotting out the daunting threat to his life, the youngest King eyed the distraught Carrie. The poor woman wore a mask of grief and a nightgown stained with the blood of his father. Please God, Jamie prayed silently. Don't let my dad die. But what were the chances for Joe King, beaten unconscious by the butt of a gun and left behind on the riverbank?

Only the enigmatic Lee Stetson remained impassive as he manned the oar and steered the raft from the rear. Having arrived late to the wilderness adventure, the King family acquaintance had butted in where he wasn't really wanted. Well, not wanted by Dad or me, Jamie reminded himself.

Looking over his shoulder, the kid stared at the family interloper and caught Lee's slight nod as he stared back. The typical Stetson straight face gave away nothing. Crap, didn't the man care? Whose side was he on, anyway?

As Jamie seethed with anger, the raft lurched and splashed everyone with whitewater. Distracted, their captor whirled and lowered the gun from the boy's side. Immediately Lee sprang into action. With a primal yell, he leaped from his perch and lunged at Gregory. Knocking the revolver free, Stetson heaved him into the wild current. At the same instant, fierce waves rocked the raft, forcing Lee to teeter on the edge. Bracing for the fall, he jumped into the air like a launched missile and dropped feet first into the swirling river.

Stricken by the scene, Jamie realized the horror of his assumptions. Lee Stetson was a savior, not a villain. The very person he'd wanted out of his life for good was now risking everything to save the Kings. Leaning far over the side, the boy stretched out his arm in a useless effort to grab the imposing man who was nearly twice his size. Only Carrie's intervention pulled the weakest among them back from the brink. "Lee, Lee," they called as if the strength of their voices could force his return.

By then his mom abandoned her post and joined their mighty chorus, but even her frantic cries couldn't protect the man she loved. With the raft continuing its perilous journey, the figure of Lee grew smaller and smaller as he swirled in the confluence of currents.

"Oh my gosh, he's caught in a whirlpool." In a fit of desperation, Jamie's determined mother prepared to plunge into the water. Standing on the precipice, the plan was foiled when Carrie yanked her backward. "Oh, Lord, help him," she cried, realizing the futility of a rescue attempt.

Jamie choked on his sobs. God, he'd give anything if he could take back all his hateful actions – the hurtful words, the dirty looks, and the cold rejection of a brave man who'd treated him with kindness. Now Jamie's childish jealously had ruined everything, all because he didn't want his mom to fall in love and marry again.

"Lee," Jamie shouted with a gut-wrenching final regret. "I'm sorry."

Too late, his heartfelt words echoed off the canyon walls. In that ghastly moment, Lee was trapped in the downdraft. In seconds he was gone from sight, sucked into the unrelenting pull of the vortex.

Then like a tsunami, a wall of whitewater washed over the group, upending the raft and dumping everyone into the ice cold river. Immediately they were swallowed by the waves and hurtled downstream.

In a fleeting moment, Jamie lost sight of his family. Even with his life jacket, he was dunked repeatedly as the river churned over him. Choking on the muddy water, he struggled to take a breath. Desperately he tried to comply with the expert guide's instructions. "If you fall into the river, keep your feet in front of you," he remembered. Instead his body tumbled every which way.

Fighting for his life, he grappled for purchase as his slight frame slammed against the boulders obstructing his path. With each bruising impact, he felt his strength failing. Finally he ceased the struggle and surrendered to nature's whim.

Then just when all seemed lost, he glimpsed the last hope in his trajectory downstream. "Oomph", he groaned as he collided with a fallen tree protruding in the water. Gripping a branch with all his might, he screamed a prayer above the roar of the turbulence. "Help me. Please, someone help me."

* * *

 **Park Invasion: Later the same morning  
**

The rhythmic sound of rotors announced the approaching helicopter as it flew above the cathedral-like spires of the West Virginia dense pine forest. Numb from cold and emotionally spent, twelve-year-old Jamie huddled in a blanket and watched the chopper land at the park's clearing. As expected, local, state, and federal law enforcement officers were descending like an invading army upon the wilderness sanctuary. Already emergency vehicles streamed into the campground entrance and lined the parking lot.

Overwhelmed by fear and sadness, the child tried to blot out the horrific events that had sabotaged his family's backwoods adventure. Instead of a leisurely trip down a lazy river, the King family had found itself caught on the ride from Hell.

The combined forces of nature's wrath and humanity's evil intent had conspired against them. Sudden torrential downpours had elevated the water levels and changed the shape and size of the rapids. Even worse, sinister enemies had wrecked their idyllic vacation and probably wiped out the lives of nearly everyone.

Now, unable to assuage his personal guilt, Jamie realized his juvenile behavior contributed to the family's doomsday. How ironic that he escaped the clutches of the turbulent river when nearly everyone he loved was swept away. By some bizarre twist of fate, he was still alive – saved by the heroic efforts of 'Good Samaritans' who came to his rescue when all seemed lost.

Shuddering at the poignant memories, Jamie dropped to the infirmary bed and curled himself into a tight ball. Any minute now, he would be interrogated by authorities demanding precise answers.

Soon voices from the lodge porch caught his attention. "Here it comes," he mumbled, disentangling from his blanket as he prepared to field a barrage of questions. Peeking around the doorway, he watched the proceedings.

All business, a tall blonde lady and a balding black man hurried into the park lodge. A ranger and medic stepped forward to greet the solemn pair.

Dressed in a three-piece suit, the stout man's commanding presence pervaded the room. "I'm William Melrose," he said, flashing identification. "We're federal agents, and we need to speak with the injured child, James King."

Raising his thumb, the medic pointed over his shoulder. "He's resting in the infirmary. Physically, the kid survived in good shape, but he's stunned by the ordeal. He was chilled to the bone when rescued, so we gave him some dry clothes."

Melrose merely nodded. "Do you have any recent news on the assailants and the rest of the King family?"

The ranger shook his head. "I'm sorry to report there's still no official word on the others in his group."

"Please inform me of any updates as soon as they come in."

With somber expressions clouding their faces, the two agents approached the tiny room. Scampering back to bed, the boy lunged for the mattress and braced for the debriefing.

"Jamie," the man said as he tapped on the open door. "I'm Mr. Melrose. Our agency was contacted about your family's emergency, so we're here to assist you and your parents and brother. You may recall that I was the supervisor during another King family crisis."

Jamie offered a faint nod. "Yeah, I remember. The Feds secured our house when Mom and her colleague disappeared last year."

"Correct," Mr. Melrose replied.

"Phillip and I didn't know what was happening, but you told us there was a matter of national security, and we didn't have a 'need to know' the details. Jeez, are Mom and her co-worker in trouble with the government again?"

"No, but we're dealing with another 'need to know' situation. Like the previous incident, you're prohibited from discussing our conversation with anyone."

"I understand the drill," Jamie replied as he straightened his shoulders with false bravado. "However, I'd like to know why documentary film people end up trapped in a nest of killers?"

"Good question, but one I can't answer." Mr. Melrose coughed into his hand and looked away. Beckoning to his companion, he made the introduction. "This is my colleague, Miss Desmond."

For a brief moment, Jamie stared at the beautiful lady standing before him. "Jeepers," he mumbled as he compared the dangerous world of federal agents with the glamorous life of beauty queens and Hollywood starlets. Attired in a silky dress, spiked heels and striking jewelry, the Desmond woman looked out-of-place for a wilderness manhunt. Confused by the contradictions, Jamie barely squeaked a tepid "hello" as he blushed under her scrutiny.

Miss Desmond's blue eyes flashed with a faint smile. "I've met your mother. Amanda King is a brave and strong woman. She can hold her own during any crisis."

At the mere mention of his mom's name, Jamie's eyes welled up with tears. "I'm afraid she's dead . . . ." His voice trailed off as he started to cry.

"Hey, there's still hope," she said, her colorful bangles jingling as she touched his shoulder in an awkward gesture of reassurance.

Stooping to his level, Mr. Melrose placed a hand on the boy's boney knee. "Are you okay? No broken bones or cracked ribs. No hypothermia."

"No, sir, just some cuts and bruises." Jamie sniffled as he bit his lip and bravely tamped down his emotions.

"Son, I'm sorry we have no information about your family's fate. However, I can assure you, the rangers and our Agency team are conducting an intensive search."

Exhausted from his prolonged misery, Jamie resigned himself to the limbo of endless waiting. "Is my grandma coming?" he asked in a small voice.

"Yes, she'll be arriving on another government chopper." Mr. Melrose pulled over two chairs and studied his young witness. "Jamie, we need you to describe what transpired. Miss Desmond will record what you tell us."

Shuddering, the boy cast his gaze toward the floor. Then summoning his courage, words poured forth before coherent thought could scrutinize the story. "The whole morning was a nightmare," Jamie said in a rush. "Before breakfast, two armed strangers invaded our campsite. One was a tall ex-con who blamed Mom and her friend for his imprisonment. The shorter intruder knocked Dad over the head with a gun, so my mother retaliated by hitting him with a coffee pot. Then there was a brawl and a gun went off, killing the smaller assailant. My stepmother tried to stop the fight by throwing a frying pan, but it accidentally struck Mom's friend, enabling the crook to win the battle. Carrie didn't mean to hit. . . "

"Whoa, Jamie." Holding up a hand, Mr. Melrose halted the ramble. "So, you're saying one assailant died. "What happened to your father and the person struck by a skillet?"

"Dad was knocked out-cold and got left at the campsite, along with the dead man. The other guy was kind of dazed but not unconscious. All of us who could still stand were loaded onto the raft and forced to paddle down river. When the thunderstorm arrived, Mom's friend attacked the gunman and they both fell into the water. Then our raft was flipped by the whitewater, and everyone disappeared." Clamping his mouth shut, Jamie labored to calm his wildly beating heart. God, he hated it when his runaway explanations got ahead of his logical mind.

The two agents sat immobile, apparently trying to decipher the ramble.

"My, my," Miss Desmond said, trying to make light of the explanation. "The ruckus sounds a little like the old Abbott and Costello comical baseball sketch, "Who's on First?"

"Only it wasn't funny," the agency supervisor said, glowering at his associate. "I'm sorry son; you've certainly had a traumatic day."

"Yes, sir, it was kind of weird and very scary."

"What else can you tell me about the strangers?"

Jamie heaved a sigh, trying to order his thoughts. "The man who was shot was average size with dark hair. He also had pock marks on his face. I think his name was Edgar. The guy in charge, Gregory, was tall, skinny, and balding."

A flash of recognition swept across Mr. Melrose's face. "Very good description," he said. "Is there anything else that seemed suspicious?"

"Well, maybe their accents. Lots of people at tourist spots sound foreign, but I'd guess our intruders were European – maybe German or Russian."

Melrose's demeanor hardened. "Very insightful, Jamie. We'll have you look at some pictures later. Now what can you tell us about your mother's friend?"

Jamie met the dark probing eyes of the agent-in-charge. "You know the guy; he's Mom's colleague, Lee Stetson."

"Really?" With a sudden quirk of the brow, Melrose exchanged pointed looks with the female agent.

She leaned toward her superior and murmured, "Oh, no, Lee must have ditched his handlers."

Rebuffing his co-worker's comment, Melrose raised a cautionary hand. "So Jamie, do you mean to say that Lee Stetson joined you on the trip?"

"I never saw the man until this morning. He must have arrived last night when everyone was sleeping." Nervously, Jamie picked at tiny lint balls stuck to his blanket as he wondered why Lee's presence made a bit of difference to the Feds. "Actually Mr. Stetson was never invited on our vacation, but he showed up unexpectedly."

Mr. Melrose gave a non-committal nod while Miss Desmond probed deeper. "Please, Jamie, elaborate a bit more. What does Lee Stetson have to do with your family?"

The kid shrugged. "Well, Lee is my mom's friend and her co-worker at International Federal Film. However, their relationship doesn't end at work."

Francine stiffened, following every nuance of the conversation with rapt attention. "So, in the past, has your mother included Mr. Stetson in family activities?"

"Yeah, he has participated in a lot of stuff."

"Stuff?"

"You know, backyard picnics and holiday dinners."

Agent Desmond's eyes grew wide with surprise. "By holiday, I assume you don't mean Christmas." Turning toward her colleague, she murmured, "That would be totally out of character for Lee. His observance is strictly limited to football games and guacamole dip."

"No it's not," Jamie interrupted, shaking his head vehemently. "Lee's okay with Christmas. He ate dinner with us on Christmas Eve and gave Phillip and me his old Lionel electric train set the next morning. It's really neat – complete with tunnels, a station, and a model village."

"How generous," Billy said with the hint of a smile. "He must be very fond of you."

"Well, he's fond of my mother." Jamie shrugged his shoulders. "She must love the guy a lot, because Mom's always bringing him to our house."

"No surprise there," Miss Desmond said with a smirk.

Jamie paused at the implication. Why would the woman snicker at his mother's romantic feelings? Interceding on her behalf, he rushed to set the record straight. "If you want to know the truth, it's Lee Stetson who's obsessed with Mom. Grandma says he's lovesick."

"What?" Miss Desmond's head jerked up and she hastily stopped the recorder. "You have to be mistaken, young man."

"Francine, please," Melrose said, his straight face failing to hide the gleam in his eyes. "Go on, son."

Jamie took a big breath as he prepared to share the doubts that plagued him for months. "Personally, I never liked the guy. When Mom included Mr. Stetson on holidays, it was awkward for Lee and for us – especially Dad and me."

"I can well imagine," Melrose added.

Miss Desmond tried and failed to stifle a chuckle. "Honestly, the man can't be domesticated."

Perplexed by the woman's jab, the boy hesitated. "Dad and I had doubts about Mr. Stetson. I heard my father complain to Mom that Lee led a secret life and associated with dangerous characters. While I don't know any details, I concluded he must be involved in some kind of shady dealings. It never made any sense why a sneaky guy would choose to hang around a nice suburban lady with two kids?"

"Indeed," Miss Desmond said without elaboration.

Briefly the senior agent glared at his associate. "I can assure you, Jamie, Lee Stetson is on the right side of the law."

Tears stung Jamie's eyes. "I know that now. I found out today that Lee's a brave and good man, but it was too late for me to apologize for treating him badly."

"Maybe it's not too late," Melrose said kindly. "Remember you were swept to safety, so there's reasonable hope that the others survived."

"Lee was already gone before our raft overturned," Jamie continued in a voice raw with remorse. "While struggling with our abductor, he fell overboard and got sucked into a vortex. Mr. Stetson has to be dead. Even my mom thought he was drown in the whirlpool."

For a long moment the inquisition stopped, and Mr. Melrose sat in silence, his broad shoulders sagging under the weight of the news. Miss Desmond also lowered her eyes, trying to hide her own sad countenance. By all appearances, they were mourning the loss of a man they both held in high esteem.

Finally Melrose squared his shoulders and nodded to his colleague. "You'd better report the latest information." Then abruptly rising from his chair, he followed her to the door. "Francine," he whispered. "If you know anything about Scarecrow's latest breach of protocol, now's the time to bring me up-to-speed."

"Sir," she said, her face still blanched from shock. "He said nothing to me. I had no idea Scarecrow skipped town immediately upon returning from overseas."

"Nor did I. The man promised to finish his debriefing today. Supposedly Scarecrow was sleeping off his jet lag at home and returning to the Agency with our watchdogs."

Overhearing the baffling conversation, Jamie tried to decipher the meaning. "Who's Scarecrow?" he asked before he could remember his manners.

The agents turned toward the curious spectator. "Excuse us, Jamie," Mr. Melrose said. "Miss Desmond and I have to straighten out a work-related matter."

Commotion in the lodge entrance interrupted any more disclosures. "I don't care if the President of the United States is holding council with my grandson," a familiar voice scolded the ranger. "I demand to see him now."

Jamie didn't hesitate. Flinging himself from the bed, he ran to the waiting arms of his grandmother. "Grandma," he cried. "The whole family is gone."

Fiercely hugging the quaking boy, she countered his perception. "James Michael King, you listen to me. Don't ever give up on your mother, father and brother. Nor Carrie either. Each one of them is resilient, and each one loves you very much. They're out there, somewhere, moving heaven and earth to get back to you."

"Maybe," he said in a strangled voice. "But, they're not the only ones lost on the river. Mr. Stetson is gone, too."

Dotty flinched, almost imperceptibly. "What happened to Lee?"

"Grandma, he's dead."

For a long moment, the family matriarch stared in disbelief. Then steepling her fingers against her face, she challenged her grandson. "Are you absolutely sure he died?"

"Yes," he mumbled. "I'm pretty sure. Well, I mean, Lee appeared to have drown."

"Appeared? Then you don't know without a shadow of doubt."

Jamie merely shrugged, realizing his grandmother never believed bad news until confronted by indisputable evidence.

"Ah-hem," Agent Melrose coughed as he joined the reunited pair. "Hello, Mrs. West; we're glad you're finally here."

Dotty kept an arm around her grandson as she offered to shake the hand of the supervisor. "Thank you for arranging my transportation. I understand from the other agents that the rest of the family hasn't been found."

"No, not yet," Melrose said kindly. "However, while we're waiting, I need to finish debriefing Jamie and then ask you some questions."

"Why me?" she questioned with blunt indignation. "I opted to skip the insane craze of whitewater rafting."

"Yes, a very good choice, it would seem." Guiding them toward the coffee and soda machines, Mr. Melrose signaled his associate to join them. "Francine, please provide Mrs. West some refreshments."

Jamie gawked as the female agent plastered on a stellar smile and cautiously approached his grandmother like a novice about to ignite a firecracker.

"Mrs. West," Miss Desmond said, handing her a cup of the steaming brew. "Your presence here is invaluable. Maybe you can give us a clearer picture of the King vacation plans and the family dynamics."

"Family dynamics?" his grandmother queried with a raised brow. Irritated by the reference to privileged information, her open expression closed off at the very suggestion. "I thought you people dealt with facts. I can't imagine why you need to probe the private emotions behind our little family dramas."

The Agency chief interceded. "I understand your hesitation, Mrs. West, but psychological insights may reveal important information." Apparently the paragon of patience, Mr. Melrose stood his ground with the indomitable grandmother. "Why don't we proceed," he said as he handed a can of root beer to Jamie. "The beginning is usually a very good place to start."

* * *

 **TBC**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve: Grand Gorge Lodge – June 28 – 8:30 PM**

Too antsy for rest, Billy Melrose paced the empty lobby of the Grand Gorge Lodge. All day, he'd awaited definitive news on his missing agents, their family, and the assailant, Gregory. From years of experience, Billy knew the interminable delays were the worst part of his job, but he planned to stay in West Virginia for as long as it took to determine their fate.

Like an expectant father anticipating the birth of a child or the late arrival of a teenager way passed curfew, Billy had endured countless sleepless nights worrying about his field agents. Repeatedly, he'd failed to leave the office until the last agent reported-in after a dangerous assignment. Even when he did make it home, he'd often been rousted from bed to stand vigil in hospital emergency rooms or city morgues. Time and again, he'd comforted heartbroken family members who would never know the full extent of a loved one's sacrifice to country.

Never before had it been this hard. His top agent was presumed dead and his best team may be irrevocably shattered. Billy blamed himself. He was the one who hired an over-enthusiastic, naïve housewife and paired her with a hot-tempered, risk-taking loner who was hell-bent on dying long before he could ever claim a pension.

Melrose still wondered what possessed him when he teamed a respectable, suburban mother-of-two with a fearless, disobedient lothario. The goal had been to reform Scarecrow's bad habits, but, instead, the course correction profoundly altered both their lives. For three years, Amanda King chipped away at the senior agent's cantankerous façade until she unmasked the sensitive, caring Lee Stetson. On his part, albeit unintentionally, Scarecrow turned his part-time civilian assistant into an outstanding intelligence operative. For her commitment to the job and the man, Amanda earned full agent status and the intense devotion of a loving husband.

"The Scarecrow and Mrs. King saga is 'stranger than fiction'," Billy mumbled to himself.

"Are you beating yourself up again?" a feminine voice called from the stairs. Now sporting a casual chartreuse sweat suit, Francine Desmond reappeared to share his burden. Pointing to a game table in the corner, she lured him over. "Maybe a little poker will pass the time until the last of the search party returns for the night."

"How's Mrs. West?" Melrose asked as he distributed the poker chips.

Francine shuffled the deck of cards. "Under the circumstances, Mrs. West is bearing up well. I have to admire the woman's tenacity. She refuses to give up on her daughter and grandson."

"The chances of finding anyone tonight are slim to none," Billy said as he half-heartedly anted-up some chips. "Joe King was lucky to be discovered in broad daylight, and Carrie King was fortunately found before evening. Timely medical care saved them both."

"The others have lost the advantage of urgent medical intervention," Francine added with a sigh. "However, Amanda's mother is clinging to her 'Pollyanna' fantasy of everyone being found alive—even the bad guy. Needless to say, she hopes Gregory will have plenty of years behind bars to regret the day he tangled with Lee and Amanda."

Feeling despondent, Melrose shook his head. "I can barely admit it to myself, let alone tell anybody else, but I'm afraid tomorrow's search will only turn up dead bodies."

"Don't go there, Billy." A flash of agony crossed Francine's face as she abandoned her cards and pushed the chips aside. "I'm not ready to accept the deaths of Lee Stetson and Amanda King. I'm not even sure I could continue in espionage if the best of the best are gone."

"I have my own doubts about my career," he admitted, lowering his guard and baring his soul. "The demise of Scarecrow and Mrs. King could be my 'Battle of Waterloo.' Losing them and watching their family crumble would spell my ultimate defeat."

"Their family?" she asked with raised brow.

"What?" he stalled, knowing he'd let something slip.

"You said, 'their family'."

"Did I?" Melrose feigned ignorance. "Hers, ours, theirs, what difference does it make?"

Francine studied him with a critical eye. "Jamie made it sound like Lee and Amanda are 'as thick as thieves'."

"Maybe," he confessed, still peeved at her for the pushy interrogation technique she directed at a child. "You were pretty rough on the kid, so he was determined to defend his family. If I didn't know better, I might think you're jealous of Amanda King."

"Jealous," she sputtered, glaring at her superior. "Admire her accomplishments, yes, but never in a million years could I be jealous of a woman from suburbia with a station wagon, two kids, and a live-in-mother."

Billy pumped his hands, signaling for calm. "Okay, I retract my statement. You're not the envious type, but sometimes I think you protest too much. There may come a day when you'll want to join the ranks of the 'married with children' crowd. After all, I hear you're seeing an old flame again."

Incredulous, Francine huffed. "Billy, your innuendoes are not even open for debate."

* * *

 ** _"Almost Heaven, West Virginia, Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River . . ."_**

The words of an old song rattled through his brain as he struggled toward consciousness. Somewhere in time, he'd heard the little ditty before, but what did it matter now? Achingly tired, he just didn't care. The effort to reason was beyond his capabilities. "Rest," he mumbled. Sleep was all he could handle for now. Once more, in the empty silence, he succumbed to the blackness.

Night had fallen when he finally came to full awareness. Wisps of clouds shown in the moonlight and stars twinkled like diamonds. Mesmerized by the phenomenal sight, he felt lucky to be alive.

By all accounts, he should be dead. The crushing blow to his skull had left him totally incapacitated and disoriented for the better part of the day. Now, at least, he could move his head and register his surroundings.

Lee hadn't expected to make it out of this one. Not once, but twice, his noggin had been bashed by a hard object—first by Carrie's skillet and later by solid rock. God, it was astonishing that he hadn't drowned. The bone chilling memory snapped into focus as his mind relived the terrible moments of his death defying feat.

 **** Flashback**

 _Heaving Gregory over the side of the raft, he anticipated his own fall when the momentum pulled him forward. Bracing for the inevitable, he plunged feet first into the confluence of currents. With the river churning and rotating, he felt trapped in the midst of a funnel._

 _Struggling against the unrelenting force, he heard his family shouting his name, but he couldn't muster the strength to swim to the raft. Swirling round and round, the vortex pulled him beneath the rapids. Out of sight, he was sucked down eight or nine or ten feet until he was deposited on the river bottom._

 _The motion of the whirlpool was shocking. Turbulence raged all around him, but in the center he experienced the surprising sensations of peace and calm. For a long moment, he held his breath and waited to regain his bearings. Just as his lungs felt like they'd burst, he stepped back into the turbulence and shot straight to the surface, not far from where he'd entered the water._

 _By then the raft had flipped, and four heads bobbed up and down in the waves. "Amanda," he yelled. "Boys, Carrie," but all his desperate words were overpowered by the roar of the river. Lee watched in horror as his family disappeared from sight without ever knowing he was there. Choked by the roiling river, all he could do was try to save himself._

 _Suddenly the strong currents shifted, and he was propelled toward the rocky bank. As land came within reach, the whitewater slammed him against a boulder. Dazed by the impact, he floundered in the river before surrendering to the deluge of a watery grave._

 **** End of Flashback**

"God," Lee moaned, realizing he'd narrowly escaped the clutches of death. Or was he merely experiencing a temporary reprieve? No one had come to his rescue during the long daylight hours, and he was in no shape to walk anywhere. What about the others? If they were all dead, he couldn't face the anguish. Had he endured months of exile only to mourn the crushing loss of his cherished family? Was Lee Stetson's sole lot in life to attend the funerals of those he loved?

Shaking with unspeakable sadness, he wished he'd died, too. If he couldn't have his wife and stepsons, then he wanted nothing at all. Lost in grief, he failed to notice two intruders until they stood before him and shined a light into his eyes.

"Sir," one spoke. "Are you all right?"

Recognizing their ranger uniforms, he locked his emotions behind his brusque Scarecrow facade. "Do, I look all right?" he growled.

"Sorry, sir, but we need to see identification."

"Lee Stetson, federal agent," he replied, pulling his soggy ID from the hip pocket of his jeans. "What the hell took you so long?"

"We've had search parties out all day," one defended.

Bracing for bad news, Lee ventured the difficult question. "Are there any other survivors?"

"So far, four counting you. We're still searching for the others."

His hope soared. Maybe Amanda and the boys were safe. "Come on man, tell me their names."

The ranger hesitated as he looked to his colleague for approval. "Two of the survivors are Joe and Carrie King. They were found separately and taken to the hospital in pretty bad shape. Doctors think they'll pull through."

Lee nodded, his jaw clenching as his personal preference faded. "And the third survivor?"

"One of the boys was rescued," the ranger said. "His name is Jamie King."

* * *

 **The Lodge**

Stones crunched beneath the pick-up truck's tires as the ranger vehicle rolled to a stop in front of the Grand Gorge Lodge. Standing sentry on the western slope of the mountains, the massive log cabin was impressive with its generous moonlit grounds, ten dormer windows, and twenty rocking chairs lining the long front porch.

Braced by his rescuers and practically dead on his feet, Lee trudged up the stone front steps and entered the immense lounge. The interior was inviting. Log beans crisscrossed the vaulted ceiling, and hardwood floors were polished to perfection. Early American furniture complimented the knotty pine walls, and taxidermy wildlife mounts guarded an imposing flagstone fireplace. In better circumstances, Lee could imagine relaxing in the rustic setting with his family, but, at this moment in time, the desire was nothing more than a pipedream.

Greeted by the nighttime desk clerk, Lee was immediately escorted to the infirmary for an examination by a medic. Barely tolerating the intrusion, he lay back on the bed when finally left alone. Then, fading in and out of sleep, he was startled by a familiar voice.

"My, God, Scarecrow . . . ." His speech raspy with relief, Billy Melrose appeared by Lee's side and grasped his arm. "I can't believe it's you, man. We were told you drowned."

"I wished I had died," Lee mumbled as he turned his head toward his section chief. Struggling for control, his mouth opened and shut twice before he could finally utter his worst fear. "I'm afraid I lost her, Billy. And Phillip, too."

Melrose's sad eyes mirrored Lee's grave thoughts. "Maybe they'll be found alive. The unexpected survivors have been turning up all day. Let's hold out for more good news, especially since the nighttime temperatures will stay above sixty degrees."

Lee merely nodded, feeling suffocated by the weight of his anxiety. "How's Jamie?" he finally asked, knowing the boy would judge his stepfather's survival as an unfair twist of fate.

"Jamie came through the ordeal in good shape," Billy said with a smile. "Of course, he's worried about his family, including you."

"I doubt it. The kid hates my guts."

"Not anymore, Scarecrow. You're a hero to Jamie. He knows you risked your skin to save the others. What he's feeling right now is remorse. More than anything, the boy wants to apologize for treating you badly."

"Has he gone home to his grandmother?"

"No, Lee, he's still here."

"And so am I," a voice called from across the room.

"Dotty," Lee choked, grateful and alarmed at the same time. God, he hadn't kept his promise. "I'm sorry I failed to get Amanda and the boys safely home."

In a split second, his mother-in-law was by his side, running a tender hand across his cheek. "Lee, darling, you did more than was humanly possible. No matter what transpires tomorrow, I'll be thankful that my son-in-law is alive."

"At least Jamie already knows his father and stepmother survived," he said, doubting his own place in the fractured family. "I'm sure he'd like to be with them tonight."

Dotty anchored her small fingers to Lee's large hand. "We visited Joe and Carrie at the hospital earlier this evening. They were doing better by the time we left."

"Good," Lee said, genuinely glad for the couple. "They were unfortunate innocents in the ambush. Gregory was my enemy, not theirs."

"And apparently Gregory was my daughter's enemy, too," Dotty reminded, careful to steer him away from self-incrimination. "Actually Jamie and I prefer to wait here, in case his mother and brother are found sooner rather than later. Both of us are still hoping for a family reunion tomorrow, complete with Amanda and Phillip. Believe me, after hearing about your assumed death, no one could be more surprised if you jumped out of a cake."

He managed a grin. "If all the guests show tomorrow, I'll be more than happy to be the entertainment." Then seeing the medic approach, he braced for the interruption.

"Mr. Stetson, an ambulance will be picking you up. I suspect you have a concussion. You'll need a CAT scan and probably an overnight in the hospital."

"Forget it, I'm not going anywhere."

Dotty and Billy exchanged knowing looks. "Lee, you don't have a choice," Melrose said. "In fact, Francine or I will ride along with you."

* * *

Francine must have lost the coin toss, because someone roused her from sleep. Regardless she was genuinely jubilant by the turn of events. "Lee, I can't believe you beat the odds again," she cried, pressing her cheek against his face. "We were devastated to think you died."

Shaken by the rumors of his death and Francine's obvious grief, Lee felt a renewed appreciation for his colleague's friendship. However, he barely had a chance to acknowledge her presence before the attendants hustled him to the ambulance, and Francine climbed in beside him. The siren wailed all the way to the hospital, so she simply held his hand and kept her troubled thoughts to herself. However, once Lee was settled in a private room, Francine was ready to probe for answers.

"Lee, I have a few burning questions, and I want to learn the truth."

"Go ahead, shoot," he said, dreading the path she may lead him down.

"I've long suspected that there's more to your relationship with Amanda King then you've admitted."

"Oh?"

"Stetson, please stop with the stonewalling."

His jaw clenched with defiance. "As you damn well know, Amanda and I are partners and very close friends. Can't you leave it at that?" He looked away, trying to hold his emotions in check.

Francine was as tenacious as a hungry lion. "Lee, we've been friends for a long time. I think I have a need to know. Just how close are you and Amanda?"

"We're pretty damn close," he said, retreating behind his Scarecrow facade.

"You don't mean lovers, do you?" she teased. "I could understand a weekend fling, but we both know Amanda King would demand a trip to the altar before she'd ever entertain the notion of sharing a bed with her partner. Besides, I'm sure she'd feel rather intimidated by your reputation with the ladies."

"Don't be so sure." Provoked, he shot her a scorching look. "Actually Amanda and I are more than lovers."

"More?" she huffed.

"Yes, we're married."

Francine snorted at the statement as if it was a bold-face lie. "Married, huh? And I was one of the wives of King Henry VIII."

"Well, let me spell it out," he said with annoyance. "Amanda is my wife, Phillip and Jamie are my stepsons, and Dotty is my mother-in-law. They're my family."

Francine looked thunderstruck. "Are you serious?" she finally managed to gasp.

"Dead serious."

"When? Where?"

"California," he murmured, not even trying to disguise his anguish. "We eloped immediately following the Nick Grant case. Then we flew to Las Palmas for our honeymoon."

Horror spread across Francine's face as she grasped the facts. "But Amanda was shot in Las Palmas."

"Exactly, and less than two days after we exchanged our vows, she nearly died. Now I face losing her again."

Stricken by the news, Francine's face crumbled. "Oh, Lee, how awful. You two never experienced a real marriage."

"No, we never did." Overwhelmed with misery, he fought down the sobs that silently heaved against the wall of his chest. Pushing through the agony, he tried to explain their clandestine relationship. "When I asked Amanda to marry me, she didn't hesitate to say, 'yes'," he confessed, his haunting voice casting a pall over the room. "However, we were both worried about the safety of her family, so I recommended a mystery marriage, and she agreed."

"A covert marriage," Francine mumbled, still in shock from his revelation. "How did that work for you?"

Lee's labored breathing was the only sound as he struggled to unpack the burden of deception. "Living apart and deceiving everyone was full of pitfalls."

"Do you mean no one knew?"

"No one had a clue until Dr. Smyth forced me to Moscow in April. On that day, Amanda told Dotty and Joe about the elopement, but she said nothing to the boys or the Agency. However, Billy was suspicious and turned up a marriage license on his own."

"Humph." Francine pressed her lips together in annoyance. "I wished you'd shared your secret with me. Poor Amanda had to endure my speech on the sex lives of American spies behind the Iron Curtain."

Lee merely waved off the confession. "Don't worry. Amanda gave me the benefit of any doubt. Deep down, she trusted my commitment."

"So you proved people can change; the allegorical leopard did change his spots."

"In my case, yes. However, the transformation may be more curse than blessing," he said, hanging his head in unspeakable despair. "Amanda and her family would be together today if only I'd hidden my feelings and never proposed. Now my brave and beautiful wife has probably died from her husband's terminal stupidity, and our oldest boy may have died with her."

Absorbing the full impact of the disclosure, Francine laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "I'm really sorry, Lee, but don't give up on them. Your indomitable wife is a survivor who often took her children camping. Both Amanda and her son are capable of finding their way back to you."

Completely done with useless platitudes, he bristled at her words. "No one can promise me that Amanda and Phillip survived. I won't believe they're alive unless they greet me in the light of day and walk into my arms."

 **TBC:**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen – June 29: Morning Rush**

 **Along the Riverbank – 7:00 A.M.**

The fire crackled and popped as he placed another log on the burning embers. Barefoot and wearing only his briefs, he checked to see if his wet clothes had dried during the night. Unfortunately, his wardrobe now lacked a pair of shoes. Like his family, they'd been swept away by the angry torrents.

Relying on a lone match sealed in a water-tight container and his trusty Jim Bowie knife confiscated from his mom's tent, Phillip had managed to set up camp in the shelter of the rocks. The night may have been full of terrors, but, for the most part, he'd coped well on his own.

Pine needles provided a warm bed, wild berries offered some nourishment, and a nearby brook gave him a good drink. Maybe he couldn't find his way out of the woods, but the Cub Scouts and the Junior Trailblazers had taught him a thing or two about wilderness survival.

Despite his small victories, Phillip realized his bravery wore a thin veneer. Part of him wanted to cry, but he'd already bawled and spilled his guts when he lay in a heap on the riverbank. Tears still stung his eyes whenever he thought about his parents, his brother, and Lee. Nature's fury probably killed them all. God, he was only fourteen years old, and Grandma may be the only close relative left in his life. Just like Lee, he could be an orphan.

Phillip knew he should be dead, too, but somehow he'd grabbed the rope that rimmed the raft. By luck or sheer folly, he'd managed to hang-on as the inflatable rubber boat tumbled over the rapids and finally ran aground. Out of reach, the others had floundered in the whitewater as the wild current swept them toward the falls that awaited them far downstream.

The family had planned to leave the river long before they entered the danger zone, but the crazed crook had forced them into fierce rapids, made worse by the storm. Never, never again, would he subject himself to turbulent whitewater, not if it could wipe out an entire family.

Maybe he wasn't even the lucky one. Already he felt guilty for surviving, and he wasn't free from danger yet. What if the scoundrel Gregory had cheated death, too? Could their paths cross again?

Glancing at the small fire, Phillip pondered his difficult choice. Hopefully the rangers would detect the smoke, but unfortunately the murderous Gregory may spot it first. Should he put out the flames and hide from sight, or should he send a brighter signal for all to see? God, he was so desperate, maybe he should consider setting the woods ablaze. But, no, he wasn't dumb enough to risk a forest fire.

Wishing help would arrive soon, he donned his damp clothes, strapped on the knife, and climbed the boulders to get a better look. Squinting, he scanned the high stone face of the gorge and the rocky riverbank, but he couldn't spot wildlife, let alone another human being. Turning around, he stopped short.

"Ah, a lone survivor," a clear measured voice proclaimed with obvious satisfaction. "How considerate of Mrs. King's gutsy son to lure me straight to his refuge. Now I have a hostage for my long journey back to civilization."

Startled, the boy froze as he stared at Gregory. The gangling Goliath appeared a bit pummeled by his unexpected plunge into the whitewater, so Phillip decided to defy the threat. "You'll have to catch me first," he yelled as he scrambled higher up the gorge. Hampered by abrasions on his unshod feet, he struggled along the rocky ridge. Desperate, he searched for an alternate route back to his camp.

Surprisingly agile, Gregory kept pace, his long legs giving him a definite advantage.

Forced to create his own path down from the pinnacle, Phillip warily descended the perilous sheer rock. Jamming his hands and feet into crevices, the flesh of his fingertips and toes tore and bled as he gripped the wall of stone. Twice he stopped his descent and pillowed his face against the cliff, terrified that he'd slip to his death.

Hearing his mother's voice play in his head, he let the memories of her encouragement guide his way. "Nice and slow, Phillip; you can do it." Painstakingly he inched his way down. Finally nearing the ground, he jumped to the riverbank and dashed into the scrub pines and underbrush.

"You can't get far on battered feet," Gregory shouted. "The rough terrain will cut your soles to shreds, and the trail of blood will lead me straight to you."

* * *

 **The Grand Gorge Lobby – 7:30 AM**

Lee and Francine walked into the lodge just as Billy was finishing his morning coffee and donuts. Looking up from his briefing papers, Melrose scowled at his two agents. "Stetson, what the hell are you doing here?"

Francine rolled her eyes. "Must you ask? The medical staff was anxious to rid themselves of every nurse's nightmare. He was harder to corral than a bucking bronco. If the poor doctor hadn't signed the release papers, the entire staff would have marched out on strike."

"Scarecrow," Billy hissed between clenched teeth. "I checked with the hospital and was told you have bruised ribs and a concussion. You should stay down for twenty-four to forty-eight hours and then take a week off to recover at home."

"My body needs to take a ticket and wait-in-line behind more pressing concerns," Lee said with complete disregard for his physical condition.

"Look at yourself, man. You can barely stand."

Lee dismissed the lecture. "So, what's the latest news?" he asked, desperate to join the rescue effort.

The section chief's demeanor was grim. "The teams restarted the search at dawn. There's no new information at the moment."

"Billy, I won't sit on my hands all day," Lee announced in no uncertain terms. "Reinstate me to active duty so I can do some searching on my own."

"You're not going anywhere alone, Stetson," Billy warned.

"I'll go with him," a small voice called from the stairs.

Looking up, Lee spied his youngest stepson. Ignoring the curious stares of his cohorts, he moved toward Jamie. Skittish by all the attention, the kid retreated a couple of steps. At the slightest provocation, he'd probably bolt. "Wait," Lee called, halting his own approach until he could read Jamie's cues. "Let's talk."

With shoestrings dangling from his high top sneakers and his hands curled inside the cuffs of his oversized sweatshirt, the boy slowly descended the stairs. Then giving his stepfather a wide berth, he stood with his back to the banister.

Nodding toward the front door, Lee led the way to the spacious porch. Choosing a far corner away from the guest traffic, he confronted his hesitant stepson. "The federal agents informed me of your terrifying river ordeal and the intense debriefing you endured. Are you all right?"

"Except for a few cuts and bruises, I'm okay." Seating himself on the log railing, Jamie fiddled with his eyeglasses and squinted at the imposing mountain peaks that dominated the landscape.

"You're wearing your old frames," Lee commented. "Did you lose your new glasses in the flood?"

"Yeah, they're gone." Jamie said with a flash of guilt. "Grandma brought along my old pair yesterday."

"That's okay, Sport. We'll call your optician and order new lenses and frames."

"Thanks," the boy muttered, seemingly indifferent to the offer.

Feeling mired in quicksand, Lee racked his brain for a way forward in their conversation. "I'm sorry about upsetting you and losing my temper before I left. Words don't begin to compensate for my behavior, so I want you to know that I intend to do better."

"Me, too," Jamie mumbled as he nervously swung his legs back and forth.

Standing over the boy, Lee tentatively placed a hand alongside his skinny neck. "Your mom and grandma have great hopes for the two of us, and so do I. If you're willing, I could help you set up a dark room in your basement."

A flash of interest crossed the somber features before Jamie nodded. Then his lower lip began to quiver and his face contorted with sorrow. Embarrassed, he hung his head.

Uncertain how far to push his stepson, Lee continued to test the boundaries. "I know you tried to help me when I fell in the river. You were very brave to lean over the side of the raft and try to grab me."

"It was a dumb move," Jamie rasped. "If Carrie hadn't pulled me back, I'd have fallen in with you."

"She was right to protect you, but at least I knew you cared enough to attempt a rescue."

"I'd do it again," Jamie said, his voice so shaky the words were barely audible. Then, despite his efforts to hide his feelings, his pent-up emotional dam burst and washed away the last traces of youthful impudence. Dissolving into tears, the child lunged into Lee's open arms. "I'm sorry," he choked. "I'm ashamed of all the mean things I said to you."

Ignoring the pain that shot through his ribs, Lee hugged the small frame close, feeling like he'd just crossed the metaphorical 'Rubicon' in his relationship with his youngest stepson. The two had finally pledged some sort of allegiance to each other. "Hey, I understand your attitude. When I was twelve years old, I was often angry with adults, too."

With eyeglasses askew, Jamie finally pulled back. "Last night, Grandma said you and Mom eloped, so I know you're my stepdad. She told me everything was already legal when I heard you in Mom's bedroom."

"Yes, we were already husband and wife, but we felt you boys needed to know me better before we confessed our true relationship." Relieved that the secret was exposed, Lee studied his stepson with newfound love and pride. "I hope our marriage is okay with you, even though we had a private ceremony."

"Yeah, it's okay." Wiping his tear-stained cheeks with the back of his hand, Jamie finally smiled. "I think I'm going to like having you around."

"Good." Relishing the improbable moment, Lee knew he'd only become a permanent presence at the Maplewood Drive home if, by some miracle, Amanda survived.

More confident now, Jamie looked up at Lee. "Do you think Mom and Phillip are okay?"

Despite his agonizing doubts, Lee embraced his role as stepfather and weighed his words carefully. Masking his pessimism, he cupped the boy's chin and met his gaze. "Son, I hope they're okay. Maybe today, we'll get lucky and find them."

Suddenly the screen door banged, and Billy appeared on the porch. "We have a lead. The rangers spotted smoke near the Gorge narrows. They also discovered two sets of footprints leading to the old growth forest."

Lee's heart leaped at the news. "You can't possibly believe I'll stay behind and twiddle my thumbs."

Melrose finally relented. "Let's go, Stetson. I'd rather be your keeper than have you prowling the forest on your own."

Turning back to the gawking Jamie, Lee grasped the boy's thin shoulders. "Wait here," he said, uttering the fateful words that so often went unheeded by his partner. "I mean it," he added for emphasis. "Tell your grandmother that we'll get word to her as soon as possible."

Then, ruffling the boy's hair, he hurried from sight as a surge of hope pounded in his chest.

* * *

 **Dotty – 8:00 A.M.**

Dotty removed the sleep mask from her eyes and squinted at the daylight peeking through the gaps in the drapes. One glance at the digital clock affirmed her fear—she'd overslept. No surprise there. She'd been up late, fussing over her son-in-law until the ambulance whisked him away. "Sit tight," Lee had told her as the Agency officials claimed "national security" and usurped her prerogative as mother-in-law to oversee his care. Didn't he remember that she hated to "sit tight?"

That Lee Stetson was alive was no small miracle. Like Lazarus rising from his grave, her son-in-law had returned from the dead or, at the very least, returned from a watery grave that failed to contain him. When everyone else had given up on the man, she'd held onto to a shred of hope.

Now she needed to keep hope alive for another day. If the strength of her will could bring back Amanda and Phillip, then she better exercise more upbeat thoughts. Dotty sighed at her predicament. Playing the role of the cockeyed optimist was getting old fast. She may talk a good story, but it was a struggle, even with the power of positive thinking and steadfast prayer, to wrestle her worries into submission. One didn't need to be a pessimist to be afraid, and she was definitely plagued with doubts and fears for her daughter and grandson.

Stretching her aching limbs, Dotty felt old—too old for shocking family secrets, dangerous spy games, and threats of death. Fragmented sleep and disturbing dreams had certainly dampened her mood. Each time she'd drifted awake during the night, her mind conjured up endless scenarios. Maybe Amanda and Phillip spent the night exposed to harsh elements. Maybe they huddled together, taking comfort in the presence of each other, or maybe they each suffered alone, injured, and terrified for the safety of loved ones? Or maybe . . . "No," she admonished herself as she shut down her runaway thoughts. Nothing good could come from contemplating their demise.

Thank God it was morning. Endless worry usually retreated in the light of day. At least she could enjoy Jamie's presence. Keeping him close would be her priority, or it would be if she knew where to find him. It wasn't like her introverted, bookworm to disappear without a word. "Not even a note," she said as she checked the pad of paper on the nightstand. "Heavens, what's gotten into that boy?"

Contemplating the changing personality of her youngest grandson, Dotty stepped into her slippers and gathered clothes for the day. Maybe she was premature in revealing Amanda and Lee's secret marriage. Certainly the declaration should be the privilege of her daughter and son-in-law, but under the present family duress, she felt duty bound to speak the truth to her grandchild.

Seemingly unmoved by the disclosure, he'd stoically hidden his feelings, slipped under his covers, and pretended to fall asleep. Like most adolescents, the twelve-year-old had already mastered the art of deception. However, later when she'd shared the news of Lee's survival, the boy's guarded expression had relaxed, and she'd watched with amazement as a glimmer of happiness lit his eyes.

Now, this morning, Jamie apparently arose early and summoned the courage to go in search of updates on Lee. Maybe her son-in-law had returned from the hospital, and the two had reunited.

Feeling hope stir again, Dotty headed for the shower. This may be a day of new beginnings—a fresh start for Lee and Jamie and a joyous return of Amanda and Phillip.

* * *

 **Francine - Lodge Dining Room - 8:30 A.M.  
**

Exhausted from her night at the hospital, Francine was relieved to take a break from Lee. As much as she admired the complicated man and treasured their friendship, she possessed limited patience for dealing with his stubborn streak. Obviously, when it came to his mulish and pig-headed behavior, Lee Stetson needed Amanda King. The Arlington soccer mom must be a true saint and brilliant negotiator to successfully sooth his frayed emotions and harness his bursts of beastly rage. However, Amanda's talents for nurturing may seem trivial when compared to Lee's other insatiable needs. Whatever was he thinking when he impulsively leaped into marriage?

Married! She'd never considered the possibility for the two polar opposites. Only six months ago she'd cautioned Amanda about falling for the man who insisted on the whole smorgasbord? Scorched earth—that was Lee's philosophy throughout his adult life. Flings. Love 'um and leave 'um. No ties.

Sipping from her mug of coffee, Francine tried to imagine how the former frazzled and frumpy housewife managed to tame the renowned ladies' man. Historically, Lee Stetson's tastes in women ran the gamut from chic models to buxom blondes. He courted royalty, romanced celebrities, and bedded international spies. Even in his mid-thirties, he toyed with free-spirited, young women barely over the age of twenty-one. Never, to her knowledge, had he dated an ordinary suburbanite with adolescent children. How could Amanda King even compete, let alone win the confirmed bachelor?

Even more outrageous, the bumbling wannabee of 1983 handily adapted to espionage and became a spy legend—the other half of Field Section's best team. If Amanda King possessed a secret potion or unique insight on the human condition, she should market her brand and become a wealthy woman.

Francine was distracted from her thoughts when she noted the hurried approach of Dotty West. Conjuring up a smile, she vowed to be pleasant to Amanda's likable, but meddling mother.

Obviously flustered, Dotty spared the niceties. "Miss Desmond, have you seen my youngest grandson? I've looked everywhere for the boy."

"Jamie came downstairs when Lee and I returned from the hospital around seven-thirty this morning. I saw him hanging around the front porch." Seeing Mrs. West relax at the news, Francine set aside her Mountaineer newspaper and gestured toward the empty space in her booth. "Won't you sit down?" Beckoning to a waitress with a coffee pot, she signaled for another cup.

Dotty gratefully accepted the steaming brew and perused the menu printed on her placemat. "So, Lee Stetson is actually back."

"Yes, in the flesh," Francine said, failing to hide her disdain. "He was battered and a little worse for wear, so the doctor prescribed bed rest. Instead, he's with Mr. Melrose and the investigative team."

Dotty stiffened at the mention of the continuing search. "Any word on the missing?"

"No, not yet," Francine replied, feeling a kinship with Mrs. West's flash of disappointment.

"Did Lee talk with Jamie?"

"Yes, they had a pow wow on the porch. Apparently the two of them have passed the peace pipe."

"Well that's good news." Dotty clasped her hands together in a jester of relief. "So, tell me; did Lee suffer a concussion?"

"Yes, and bruised ribs," Francine replied with a roll of her eyes. "However, the hospital staffers feared for their sanity, so the doctor discharged him. Believe me, nurses would rather oversee a den of vipers than care for the pugnacious Lee."

Dotty looked dubious. "Are we talking about the same man? I'll grant you, Lee is stubborn, but I find him to be a caring and generous gentleman."

"True, he's the master of charm," Francine concurred, wondering if Lee employed excessive flattery to win favor with his outspoken mother-in-law. "However, a word to the wise, Lee Stetson has a volatile temper."

"Yes, but it blows over quickly," Dotty defended.

Intrigued, Francine set aside her coffee cup and gave the indomitable woman her full attention. "I'm curious, Mrs. West. How long have you known Lee?"

Dotty hesitated, apparently wary of betraying family confidences. "Oh, I met Lee a few months ago."

Ever the interrogator, the determined spy pressed for details. "Jamie admitted that Lee spent Christmas with the King family."

"Yes, Lee joined us for dinner, but we first met last fall when my daughter was supposedly out-of-town on assignment. One day an impeccably dressed, tall handsome stranger arrived on our front doorstep and introduced himself as Amanda's colleague, Lee Stetson. Until then, I wasn't sure if the man actually existed or was just a figment of my daughter's wild imagination. On any given day she would refer to her phantom boss as Mr. Stetson, Stedman, Sampson, or Simpson. Believe me, her vague accounts of him failed to do the man justice."

Francine was slack-jawed. "You mean to say in the previous three years of their business relationship, you never once saw Lee Stetson with your daughter? From what he implied to me, Lee often stopped at your house."

"Humph, not so I'd notice," Dotty replied as she drummed her bright red nails on the tabletop. "However, there was plenty of evidence to arouse my suspicions—voices on the patio late at night, an extra coffee cup in the kitchen sink, large footprints in my garden, and a silver sports car parked on our street that curiously no one in the neighborhood could explain."

"And you never questioned Amanda?"

"Oh, all the time," Dotty said with a hint of annoyance. "However, she quickly countered my inquiries with convoluted excuses, so I became resigned to half-truths. Trusting in my daughter's upstanding moral character, I convinced myself that Amanda was entitled to a few secrets. I just never entertained the notion that she found employment in espionage that also came with the benefit package of a gentleman friend spy."

Francine commiserated with the pain of deception masterminded by Lee and Amanda. "And I never contemplated that my colleagues ran off and got married."

Dotty appeared shocked by the casual remark. "Oh, when did you become privy to the secret?"

"I only heard the summary last night," Francine said as she managed a look of contrition. "I pumped poor Lee mercilessly while he was in a weakened state, so he finally admitted the truth."

Indignant, Dotty couldn't conceal her alarm. "For a secret union, their marital status has certainly become breaking news. I was under the distinct impression that Amanda and Lee needed to guard their mystery marriage for the safety of our family."

"They do," Francine agreed. "Let me assure you that Billy Melrose and I are well trained in confidentiality. No one else at the Agency knows about their marriage, and, for now, it's best to keep the information out of the rumor mill."

"Good." Pausing, Dotty's gaze settled on her new acquaintance. "Miss Desmond, may I ask you a personal question?"

Taken aback, Francine balked. "That depends on the nature of your inquiry."

"Do you have a family?"

"I have my parents," she replied, already uncomfortable with the subject. "They live in California, so we don't visit each other very often."

"What a shame," Dotty said, her curiosity growing. "Have you informed them of your career?"

"In part," Francine admitted, surprised that she would open up to Dotty West as if she was some kind of therapist. "My mother knows I'm employed in government intelligence, but she thinks I'm a national security analyst who can't discuss the details of the job. Her health has been fragile for a long time, so it's best not to plague her with worries."

"And your father?" Dotty asked, her face etched with concern.

Francine sighed, but continued to expose her personal life to a woman she barely knew. "My father knows I'm an intelligence operative. In truth, he raised me to succeed in a man's world. Even as a little girl, I felt driven to earn the praise he dreamed of bestowing upon my brother who died at birth. Dad descended from a long line of military men who helped to shape our nation."

"So you're a Daughter of the American Revolution?"

"Yes, I am," Francine concurred. "A great, great, great, great grandfather helped defeat the British in the Revolutionary War."

"So, here you are today, continuing the legacy," Dotty affirmed with a wry smile. "I guess my daughter is a throwback to some distant ancestor. However, our forebears were more apt to march with a protest placard than a rifle. I can't imagine how Amanda managed to qualify as a spy."

"Believe me, Mrs. West, your daughter has her own unique style, and she inherited natural instincts that can't be taught."

Fidgeting a little, the determined woman threw another curveball. "Are you and Amanda close friends?"

Francine hesitated, wondering just how to describe their ambivalent relationship. "I can honestly say that we share a mutual respect and a casual friendship, but, in truth, it's difficult to have close friends in our business. That Lee and Amanda succeeded is an anomaly."

Dotty merely nodded, apparently satisfied with the explanation.

Lost in thought, they both jumped when a ranger approached their booth. "Excuse me," the young man said, a flicker of concern clouding his eyes.

Francine morphed into agent mode as she watched Dotty steel herself for the update. God, could this be the dreaded news of Amanda and Phillip's fate?

The ranger cleared his throat. "One of our investigative units at the river just reported to headquarters. Apparently they found a stowaway in one of their search vehicles."

"Stowaway?" Francine glared at the messenger.

"Yes, the young boy—Jamie King."

"Jamie," Dotty shouted with escalating alarm. "Did they bring him back?"

"Sorry, ma'am. The search parties are too deep in the forest to return now. The boy has been reunited with Melrose and Stetson. They're watching out for him."

"Oh, no," Dotty cried as she sank back in her seat. "Just what we didn't need - another family member placed in harm's way."

* * *

 **TBC:**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen: The Gorge: June 29 – 8:00 AM**

A panorama of towering trees encircled her startling habitat as she slowly emerged from the murky depths of unconsciousness. Too weak to rise, Amanda waited as her senses defined the severity of the situation. Pain throbbed in her forehead, and the metallic taste of blood congealed on her lips. The sound of roiling water rushed nearby, and the smell of rain lingered in the air.

Shivering, she noted that her t-shirt, cargo vest, and cut-off jeans were saturated. Even her canvas sneakers felt cold and squishy against her toes. Warding off the chill, she wound herself into a tight fetal position and contemplated the danger that threatened her life. Apparently she'd washed ashore during the flood and spent the warm summer night exposed to the blood-sucking mosquitoes that left trails of bites along her bare legs.

Scarcely raising her head, her eyes searched the riverbank for others. "Hello, is anybody there?" she called, but only the ambient sounds of the wilderness met her ears. Allowing her body to rest, the fog of her muddled brain began to lift, and soon she registered the truth her mind fought to repress.

"Oh God, no," Amanda cried as unwanted memories overwhelmed her thoughts. Her family had been kidnapped and forced to run the rapids in the pelting rain. The nemesis, Gregory, and her husband had fought and fallen into the river. Then the raft had flipped, spilling the family along the raging currents.

"Lee," she choked with anguish, remembering the swirling vortex that sucked the "love of her life" beneath the confluence of rivers to a certain death. And, "Oh Lord," her mind screamed; what about her precious children? Both were strong swimmers, but Phillip and Jamie were no match for a storm induced flood. Poor Carrie may have drowned, too, and Joe, left alone at the campsite, may have succumbed to his head injury.

Numb from the harsh reality and her darkest fears, she could hardly summon the emotion to sob, let alone the strength to rise and walk. What was the use if everyone was gone? How could she ever gather the courage to endure such brutal loss?

With her cheek pressed against the soggy earth, past tragedies challenged her fragile state—the death of her father while she was still in college and the demise of her first marriage when her children were small. Somehow she'd found the tenacity to overcome the grief.

Hadn't she just recovered from her near fatal gunshot wound and then faced a long separation from Lee when he was forced overseas? Yes, she'd survived and grown stronger from the heartbreaks. She'd fought the post-traumatic stress and found the willpower to persevere.

But this calamity? This was too much. How did anyone face inexplicable loss—when a car crash took one's spouse and children, or a tornado plummeted a neighborhood and killed everyone in its path? What about a platoon's last standing soldier or an orphaned child in a war-torn village? What about a city hit by an atomic bomb or holocaust survivors from a concentration camp? How did those still living ever recover from unfathomable tragedy?

Cruel life lessons defied her despair. What had Dr. Pfaff taught her during counseling, or Reverend Mills in his sermons, or Mother by her bedside? What had she learned about facing her worst fear, or holding fast to faith, or beginning again? Didn't each of them teach her the lesson of imagining the worst and then gathering the strength to move forward no matter what the circumstances?

"Get up," Amanda told herself. "You know the worst possible scenario; now confront the unknown." Once more life beckoned, propelling her to action. Gregory may still be out there, posing a threat to Phillip or Jamie or Carrie or Joe. She knew in every fiber of her being that someone desperately needed her assistance. With a silent prayer and a rush of hope, she rallied her courage and rose to soldier on through the light of day.

* * *

As her wilderness training kicked-in, Amanda pondered the hard choice between idly waiting for help to arrive and heading out on her own. Studying the towering cliffs and the fierce rapids on their trajectory downriver, she knew no one in her family could survive the steep drops and crashing whitewater. Far into the narrows, the ferocious river was too wild for even extreme enthusiasts. The odds of being found by other rafters were exceedingly slim.

No, if there were any family members still alive, they may have washed ashore upriver. She'd better head back the way she came. Turning around, she felt her instincts awaken. Roused by the tingle of goosebumps dotting her flesh, she saw a telltale sign. Far away from campgrounds and civilization, smoke rose from the riverbank. Like a lost traveler following the North Star, she chose the fire as her guidepost and set-out with renewed determination.

With the sun moving higher in the sky, the dampness of her clothes became a benefit. The day would certainly be another scorcher. Soon the tedious journey sapped Amanda's limited strength, and she was forced to shift her focus from rescue to survival. Leaving the muddy riverbank, she wandered inland in search of drinkable water. Hearing the babble of a brook, she rushed to the water's edge to relieve her parched throat and fill the plastic bottle strapped to her waist. Then, sparing only a minute, she rinsed the grim from her face, hair, and arms.

Refreshed from the respite, she retraced her steps and paused at the woods' periphery to remove a vine creeping along the ground. Pulling back her mane in a ponytail, she twirled the vine around her straggly locks and entwined a sprig of pink mountain laurel above her ear. She may not feel presentable to be seen by man or beast, but the very effort of tidying up provided a modicum of badly needed normalcy.

Famished, she remembered the emergency stash she always carried. Inside the pocket of her shorts, she found a crumbled but edible granola bar, still secured in its wrapper. Then checking all the nooks and crannies of her cargo vest, her fingers paused over the weighty object in the largest pocket.

Yanking at the flap, she reached inside and touched metal. "Oh my gosh! It's Lee's gun." The mere act of touching the weapon caused her Agency preparedness to take control. Checking the clip, she decided to fire. The sound of a gunshot may attract rescuers. Or Gregory, she remembered. She'd have to take the chance.

Returning to the riverbank, she aimed high and pulled the trigger. The noisy blast ratcheted off the canyon walls, amplifying the sound throughout the river valley.

* * *

 **Up River**

Melrose slammed on the brakes, and the jeep lurched to a stop. "What was that?" he barked.

"Gunfire," Lee said, certain of the familiar sound. "It's coming from the Gorge narrows."

"Good, we're already headed in that direction. The narrows border the Dark Shadows area of the forest."

Lee fidgeted in his seat. "God, someone may have been shot," he said, his voice thick with alarm.

"Take it easy, Stetson. There could be any number of reasons for a gunshot."

Lee was single-minded in his conclusion. Fear seized his gut as his mind conjured up images of the dead or dying. All his instincts told him Amanda was connected to the loud blast. "Who the hell in our rafting group had a gun? I'm sure Gregory lost his revolver when I threw him off the raft. Dammit, he may have confiscated Edgar's weapon before we left the riverbank."

"Mom had a revolver," Jamie rasped from the back seat.

"What?" Shocked, Lee swiveled around to confront his stepson. Still angry at the boy for sabotaging their manhunt, he was reluctant to hear him out. "You know your mother wouldn't bring a gun on a family outing."

"She didn't; you did."

"My gun?" Lee started to deny the accusation, but thought better of it. "Ah, yeah, I thought it might come in handy if a poisonous snake tried to trip us up."

The kid leaned forward and poked his head between the two front seats. "I found the weapon in Mom's tent and assumed it was yours. When the Gregory guy shoved me inside to get the first aid kit, I slipped the gun into the box. I hoped my mother would know what to do when she found it under the bandages. She's pretty smart about everything, and besides she took a self-defense course with a former boyfriend. Do you think Mom could fire your gun?"

"I think your mother could figure it out." Lee blew out a long shaky breath and stretched out an arm to grip Jamie's shoulder. "Good thinking, Sport. I'm proud of you. Now, please, sit back, buckle up, and follow our orders."

"Yes, sir," the kid agreed, looking pretty pleased with himself.

Turning away, Lee smiled and shook his head at Jamie's emerging confidence. Maybe the shy be-speckled kid possessed hidden depths of courage along with his keen mind and observation skills. Maybe his stepson had even saved his mother's life. God, he hoped the kid's actions had spared the lives of both Amanda and Phillip. However, only miles of rough travel and the slow crawl of time would tell the whole story.

Billy caught Lee's eye. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"No, it doesn't," the anxious stepfather said. "Like mother, like son."

Melrose hit the gas pedal. "Hang on, men. We're taking this buggy over some pretty rocky terrain."

* * *

 **Into the Forest**

Billy Melrose stopped the jeep alongside a small army of park rangers and federal agents. Casting a wary glance toward Lee, he sized up the beleaguered tag-along, "Are you up for this, man?"

Somber but alert, Lee merely nodded.

Already organized, the search and rescue teams slipped into high gear as they zeroed in on the makeshift campsite, the smoking campfire, and a trail of footprints leading into the old-growth forest, known as Dark Shadows.

Jamie felt like he'd just slipped down a rabbit hole and been sucked into an alternative universe. Only in his dreams could he march in step with federal agents and forest rangers. However, his boyish excitement was more attuned to a terrifying nightmare than a pleasant dream. Shuddering, he remembered, dead or alive, Mom and Phillip were out there somewhere.

Tensing at the cold reality, he watched the investigators scour the area. All they produced were one filthy athletic sock, a comb missing two teeth, and a Bombers' baseball jersey. "Those belong to my brother," he said in a strangled voice. "Phillip must have survived the flood."

"Looks like," Lee replied as he hurried over and placed both hands firmly on Jamie's shoulders. "Chalk one up for the Junior Trailblazers."

After Melrose consulted with his federal agents and the supervising ranger, he approached Lee. "The bloodied footprints could be those of a barefoot boy, and the larger prints indicate the boots of a man. Possibly Phillip and Gregory are hiking through the woods together."

"It all fits, Billy," Lee said, his voice raspy with anguish when no mention was made about his wife. "Before Gregory forced us on our ill-fated rafting trip, he claimed his contacts would meet him in the forest. He'd hoped to kidnap Amanda and me by gunpoint, but apparently he's now executing his escape plan with Phillip as hostage."

Melrose nodded grimly. "Lee, I'm sorry, but there's no sign of Amanda. Given the fact that she's still missing, the teams are splitting up again. Some will continue to search the Gorge narrows, while the others comb the Dark Shadows area of the forest."

"Are we sticking with the river?" Lee asked, his jaw tense. Clearly, that would be his preference.

"No," Melrose answered with a firm shake of his head. "The jeep won't handle the rough terrain of the narrows, and you're not in any shape to set out on foot."

"Are they afraid Mom drowned?" Jamie asked in a hollow tone devoid of optimism. Fighting the urge to cry, his eyes sought Lee's.

The Stetson straight face was unreadable as Lee hid his emotions behind a stiff facade. "Take it easy, Sport. There's no reason to abandon hope. At least we have evidence that Phillip survived the flood."

Already moving toward the vehicles, Melrose waved them forward, and they all piled into the jeep. "Ranger Redman will accompany us along an old logging road while others hike through the wilderness on a more direct trail to the main road."

"The hikers will have a difficult trek through the tangled undergrowth of the Dark Shadows virgin forest," the ranger said, as he offered a friendly smile and squeezed his tall muscular frame into the jeep's backseat.

The boy did his best to make room. "My name's Jamie King," he said, with a hint of admiration in his voice. Keeping an eye on his morose stepfather, he was relieved when Lee managed a tight lipped smile for their new acquaintance.

Extending his large hand, his hurting stepdad introduced himself. "I'm Lee."

"Roy Redman," came the reply. "Call me Roy."

Jamie was awed by the spiffy uniform, the wide brim hat, and the firearm strapped to the fit body. "I never knew park rangers could carry guns," he said, overcoming his shyness in order to satisfy his inquiring mind.

Nodding affably, Ranger Redman gave the boy his full attention. "Some of us carry weapons. Law enforcement rangers have police powers and enforce national laws as well as park regulations."

"Wow," Jamie replied, imagining himself as a member of the park service someday. "The first ranger I met came to my elementary school to teach fire safety. He didn't carry a gun."

"But, he brought Smokey the Bear, right? And I bet the bear taught you a fire safety mantra."

"Ah, yeah, he did." Jamie cringed, hoping he wasn't expected to recite the words.

Billy and Lee came to his rescue. "Only you can prevent forest fires," they said in tandem. Jamie reddened when chuckles erupted from all three men." Maybe from now on, he'd better keep his mouth shut.

As they bumped along the barely passable road, the ranger expounded upon endangered species of plants and animals. With his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, he captivated Arlington Middle School's budding scientist with details of ground moss, mountain laurel, and the golden-wing warblers.

In no mood for a guided tour and obviously in great pain from his injuries, Lee slouched down in the front seat and yanked his baseball cap lower on his forehead. For his part, Mr. Melrose ignored the conversation and kept his eyes focused entirely on the dirt road. Soon the ranger took the cues from his quiet adult companions and settled into silence, too.

Grateful for the cool balm of the sheltered woods, Jamie felt his anxiety lessen as he concentrated on nature. The dense old-growth forest enveloped him like a walled fortress. Some of the trees had trunks two feet in diameter, and the largest pines stretched over a hundred feet toward the sky. Other trees were devoid of foliage and stood dark and denuded beneath the lush multi-layered green canopies that shaded the forest floor. No wonder the wooded area was named "Dark Shadows."

Soon Jamie's natural curiosity spawned questions that begged for answers. "How old is an old-growth forest?"

Ranger Redman brightened at the interest. "White oak and hemlock can live for more than 500 years, while red spruce rarely exceeds 300 years. Out of the 10,000,000 acres of virgin forest that existed before the Revolutionary War in what's now the State of West Virginia, only a few hundred acres of old-growth forest remain."

"What killed the old trees?"

"Wildfires, disease, insect infestations, and logging were the main culprits," Ranger Redman explained.

Opening his mouth with his next question, Jamie was suddenly thrust forward in his seat as the Jeep came to a jolting stop.

"Okay, let's quiet down, people," Melrose warned. "Even through the dense trees, I can see something suspicious around the next bend."

"What the hell is this?" Lee groused as he peered through binoculars. "There's a horse trailer tethered to a pick-up truck, about 100 yards ahead."

"Is it moving?" Melrose asked.

"No, just idling its engine."

Billy pulled a weapon from beneath his jacket. "Roy, let's check it out. Stetson, you wait in the car."

No surprise, Lee ignored the order and swung his door wide.

"Hey, you know the doctor's diagnosis," Melrose reminded with a harsh rebuke. "Stetson, you're nursing bruised ribs, and you have blurred vision from your concussion, so stay with your boy."

Irritated by the reprimand, Lee huffed at Jamie. "Come on, Sport; you're a sitting duck. I want you crouched behind the jeep."

Feeling like the whipping boy for the bossy chain of command, Jamie reluctantly complied. "Yes, sir."

As the twosome shifted to the rear of the jeep, Melrose and Redman began their trek with guns drawn. They'd not walked ten feet before a shot rang out from the woods. "Hit the dirt," Lee yelled as his strong arm pushed Jamie down and held him firmly against the ground. Flattened in the dust, they waited in silence.

When nothing more happened, Lee cautiously lifted his head. "Stay put," he warned his stepson. Then in a crouch he joined Mr. Melrose and Ranger Redman. "Billy, we've got to check-out the vehicles up ahead. I'll bet my life that Phillip's in that damn horse trailer."

"A search won't be necessary," a mild male voice intoned as if a pleasant neighbor was dropping in for coffee. Pushing through a Rhododendron thicket was the assailant Gregory and a well-armed accomplice. One look at Gregory's rigid demeanor proved it was no social call. "Drop your guns, or we'll drop you right here," he warned.

As his comrade motioned them to their feet and seized the weapons, another assailant appeared with a badly shaken Phillip King. "The lost brother has returned to the family fold," Gregory said with a mocking smirk.

"Lee," the boy cried as he was shoved toward familiar strong arms. "You're alive." Weak with relief, Phillip buried his face against the broad Stetson chest.

Lee tightened the embrace and attempted to sooth the frightened teen. "Take it easy, Chief."

Still overcome with emotion, Phillip reached for Jamie and initiated an awkward brotherly hug. "Wow, you made it, bro. I don't believe it." Then looking from Lee to Mr. Melrose to the ranger, and back to his brother, Phillip's pinched face blanched. "Where's Mom?"

Too sad to speak of his mother's absence, Jamie merely shrugged and quickly averted his eyes.

"She's . . . still missing," Lee replied, his raspy voice halting with the effort to admit the truth. "However, your dad and Carrie are safe and recovering in the hospital."

Phillip managed a faint smile, but failed to hide the disappointment that contorted his boyish features. "Jeez, I hope Mom's okay."

"She may yet rise from the abyss," Gregory said in his signature understated manner. "I know what your mother does, and she does it very well. If Mrs. King still has breath, I expect she'll want to contest my recent acquisition of her family. However, if the daring lady tries to foil my efforts again, then I'm prepared to even the score."

"Over my dead body," Lee snarled, his lips curling with contempt. "You've captured me, so end your damn crusade against my family."

"Your family?" Gregory replied, now privy to the well-kept secret. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen. No wonder you've lost your iron well and singular focus, Stetson."

"What are they talking about?" Phillip asked as he looked at his brother.

Jamie cupped his hand and leaned toward his sibling. "I don't understand Gregory's accusations, but I did find out Mom and Lee eloped last winter."

Phillip's head whipped around and his baffled expression challenged Lee. "Really?" Seeing confirmation shinning in the hazel eyes, the oldest boy nodded his approval. "Cool."

"Hmm, such a touching scene," Gregory said as he stroked his chin in contemplation. "Even KGB agents have soft spots when it comes to their offspring. What a pity that two such fine young boys won't have Stetson and King around to raise them to adulthood."

Phillip and Jamie looked to Lee for retaliation, but their stepdad only tightened his fists and fumed. "Apparently you don't understand a mother's fierce protection of her children, Gregory. Don't ever underestimate Amanda."

"Touché, Stetson. Your make a valid point." Then nodding at the other hostages, the Russian pondered the obvious dilemma. "Unfortunately there's still the pesky problem of the extras in our like drama."

Turning toward the Agency chief, Gregory offered a respectful nod. "So we meet again, Melrose."

Undaunted, Billy stared at the lanky nemesis. "Like counterfeit money, you keep showing up to inflict havoc. I'd fervently hoped to never lay eyes on you again, Gregory."

"I thought you'd be glad to see me, Melrose. You might say our relationship has proven comfortable over the years, even if we are on opposing sides. Regrettably, this time, there's no trade to arrange, but I'll gladly claim you as my property of highest value."

"Gregory, you're a man obsessed with his lackluster legacy. Like the Cold War, your career is fading, but you're still desperate to play the hero in the eyes of the KGB."

"If anyone is desperate, it's you, Melrose. History will deem you a failure when you confess your secrets in Moscow and die a broken man in prison."

"Our battle of wills isn't over yet," Billy said with measured words. "Win or lose on my side, I suspect you'll be the biggest loser. Gregory, you're a shadow of your original self because you've been unable to change over the decades and imagine a life beyond the dictates of communism."

Cool and detached, the KGB agent defied the indictment. "I'd rather die in a blaze of glory than betray my loyalty to the Soviet Union."

Then rebuffing Melrose, Gregory turned his attention to the ranger. "Regrettably, I have no need of the park police. A bullet to your head could lighten our load considerably." Signaling to his burly accomplice, Gregory stepped back as one of the gunman took aim at the unflinching Ranger Redman.

"Noooo," Phillip and Jamie protested, screaming from the tops of their lungs. In a flash, a distraught Lee yanked them against his chest, turned around, and shielded their eyes as the trigger was pulled.

"Click," came the faint sound of metal, striking terror into the group. Shocked, no one moved.

"Ah, a dud," Gregory announced with indifference. "An innocent is saved by a misfire. Little matter for now; I do detest a cold-blooded killing, don't you? If we can't find a use for you, the execution can be saved for later."

Then shoved from behind, the hostages found themselves herded toward the horse trailer and a journey they couldn't begin to contemplate.

 **TBC**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: A Long Journey - June 29 - Late afternoon  
**

Disoriented and racked with pain, Amanda slowly awoke from her prolonged nap. After hiking for miles, she'd reached the threshold of endurance and collapsed into a troubled sleep. Now, with the sun falling lower in the sky, she knew she'd lost precious hours. Even worse, her inertia may have prevented a rescue.

Climbing around the boulders that had provided shade for rest, she studied the ground, still muddy from several days of rain. Sure enough, a maze of assorted footprints pointed in two directions. Apparently rescuers had unknowingly passed by her shelter and then missed her again on their return trip.

"Oh, God, what now?" she mumbled to the vast and seemingly indifferent universe. Her guidepost was gone. The fire that had lured her upriver was now extinguished and all traces of smoke had disappeared.

Chest fallen at the lost opportunity, anger and frustration shook her frame. "Dammit," she muttered, astonished at the rare word of profanity that slipped passed her lips. Despite her years of admonishing Lee's colorful vocabulary, a few expletives had been known to fly off her tongue under extreme circumstances. If he was here now, he'd feign horror and tease her mercilessly for using a swearword.

Moved to tears by the thoughts of her husband, she briefly indulged the sadness and then rallied her famed resilience that Lee had always admired in his partner. Somehow she sensed his presence—unencumbered by the boundaries of life and death.

Energized by thoughts of his unfailing love, she moved at a steady pace and within an hour came upon the remnants of a campfire. Noting the multitude of imprints from boots and tires, she concluded the area had been a meeting place of rescue teams. Following her lead to conclusion, she realized people were searching both in motor vehicles and on foot—some along the river and others into the woods. Perusing the trail of tire tracks leading to the forest, she debated her options. "Which way?" she asked aloud and her finely honed instincts felt drawn to the trees. "The dirt road," she concluded and set her sights on the daunting wilderness.

Fortunately, a canopy of trees shielded her from the heat of the day, but it also dimmed her pathway through the tangled labyrinth of plants and trees. Trusting her intuition, she walked endlessly, constantly searching for evidence of human life. Holding fast to hope, Amanda believed she'd find one or both of her sons. Civilization may be up ahead, and someone may have provided care and notified authorities. Or, more ominous, Gregory may be leading whoever was left in her family on a rendezvous with his Russian colleagues.

As shadows deepened along the road, Amanda realized she only had a few hours of daylight before darkness would impede her journey. Dreading a night alone in the wilderness, she picked-up her pace and soldiered on, hoping to catch a break.

Aware that bears lived in the mountainous region, she startled when a large object appeared in her peripheral vision. Whatever the entity, it was camouflaged by a thicket of greenery, so she kept a respectable distance and waited. When nothing came charging toward her, Amanda stepped closer and uncovered a mud-spattered jeep, abandoned on the side of the road.

"Oh, my gosh," she muttered as she scrutinized her find. An unopened can of orange soda rested in a cup holder and a bag of pretzels laid on the backseat, alongside a youth-size "Grand Gorge" sweatshirt. In one pocket was an orthodontic retainer. "Jamie's," she cried, clutching the dental appliance to her breast as if she held the Hope Diamond. Her youngest son had been here, obviously a passenger on a jeep ride through the forest.

Elated, but worried, Amanda struggled to solve the mystery. Who brought Jamie into the forest? What happened? Where was he now? Frantically searching for clues, she opened the glove compartment and peered under the seats. Nothing. Then she struck gold—the keys were in the ignition. Rushing to the driver's side, she yanked open the door and seated herself behind the wheel. Maybe there was a two-way radio or a walkie-talkie to call for help, but after a hasty search, she realized any communication equipment had been confiscated.

Adrenaline coursed through her body as she made the decision to claim the jeep. Snapping on her seatbelt, she eyed the instruments on the dashboard. "Please, start," she begged as if addressing a living being. Turning over on the first try, the engine roared to life. Quickly shifting into reverse, Amanda hit the accelerator, and the jeep surged across the road, right into the bushes. Undeterred, she changed gears and pushed the pedal to the floor. "Vroom," the vehicle took off in a cloud of dirt and bounded over the bumpy road.

She must have traveled three miles, when she reached a fork in the road. To the left was a steep grade with switchbacks that may painstakingly lead her to the top of the mountain. On the right was a wider gravel road that might intersect with a main highway. Taking the latter choice, she increased her speed on the well-maintained surface and hoped for the best. She hadn't gone far when she realized her mistake. "Oh, no," she yelled as she rounded a curve and slammed on the brakes. The road was blocked. The severe storms that pounded the area for days had collapsed the hillside. Now masses of earth, rocks and trees clogged the valley and stretched across the two lanes like a bridge to nowhere. God, she'd have to turn back.

Attempting to make a K-turn, Amanda felt like she was driving a load of poles. Backing-up a bit too far on the soft shoulder, the tires began to spin, and loose stones rained down the slope. Braking in time to avoid catastrophe, she pulled forward with a jolt and the jeep stalled. Worn to a frazzle, she rested her head on the steering wheel. "Lee, help me," she pleaded as if by uttering his name, she'd find the strength to continue. It worked, proving to her mind that nothing in this life or the next could separate her from the man she loved. Feeling calmer, she restarted the vehicle and precisely maneuvered from the bottleneck and headed toward the alternate route.

Devoid of guardrails, the mountain road was wound as tight as a coiled snake. Rattling over bumps and into potholes, the jeep crawled around each blind curve and scraped the rock wall that encroached on the crumbling roadway. Amanda fervently hoped she wouldn't meet a vehicle on its way down, because there was absolutely no place to pull over on the narrow single lane.

Finally, after fifteen minutes, the road gradually leveled out onto a grassy plateau that was surrounded on the periphery by dense woods. Whipped by strong winds and probably deforested in the past, the only trees on the exposed mountain peak were sparse scrub pines.

About fifty yards ahead, she spotted a pick-up truck and a horse trailer—the only noticeable vehicles on the premises. Also visible was a dilapidated, two-story log cabin. Initially planning to rush for help, she ditched the idea when chills ran down her spine. Sitting still, she pondered the creepy isolated setting. Why would anybody be up here? Ordinary tourists, with any common sense, would never pull a horse trailer up a treacherous mountain road, she reasoned. This place certainly wasn't an idyllic vacation spot. More than likely it was an abandoned logging camp.

Deciding on a covert approach, she backed the jeep just below the knoll, and then set out on foot. Maybe she could inspect the truck and trailer and check for people inside. With gun in hand, she moved from one gnarly tree to another until she reached the parked vehicles. Greeted by the sound of muffled conversation—it seemed to be coming from the trailer. Situating herself by the air vent, she waited for any clues from the occupants.

"We have to do something," a raspy voice complained.

"I wish Mom would come."

"Like that's going to happen, worm brain."

Amanda's pounding heart began to race as the impossible became reality. "Boys," she croaked. Then hastily concealing her weapon, she freed the bolted closure and threw open the trailer door.

Muddied and bedraggled, Phillip and Jamie squinted at the light shining into their dark prison. "Mom, Mom," they called in tandem as they scrambled to their feet and rushed into her waiting arms.

"Sssh," she warned, wishing she could shout for joy and hug them into the next millennium. Instead she placed her hands to their lips. "What kind of trouble are we in here, guys?"

"Big trouble," Phillip said, locking his arms across his chest in his best brazen manner. "We were nabbed by Gregory and some really bad Russian dudes. They're in the shack over there," he said, pointing toward the cabin.

Amanda sighed. Her fears had proven genuine. "We have to get you guys out of here. Come on, I have a jeep."

Jamie balked. "Mom, we can't leave, yet."

"Sweetheart, Gregory kidnapped you. If we wait any longer, we'll be discovered."

"But, Mom, you don't get it," Phillip protested in his squeaky adolescent voice. "We aren't the only hostages."

Already in mid-stride, Amanda stopped short when her mind registered the dilemma. "Were your father and Carrie kidnapped, too?"

Phillip shook his head. "No, Dad and Carrie are both in the hospital, but they're going to be okay."

Grateful for the good news, she waited expectantly. "So who is Gregory holding?"

"Mom, you're not going to believe this . . ." Hesitating, Jamie groped for words. "Lee didn't exactly drown."

"What are you talking about?" Blindsided by her son's statement, Amanda shook her head in confusion. "We both witnessed the confluence of rivers suck Lee into the vortex and pull him under. He didn't come up."

"I know, Mom, but we were wrong. Lee's here."

"Here," Amanda gasped as a hand flew to her mouth. Surely her mind misconstrued the implication of her son's words. A band of angels was more apt to swoop down from heaven than Lee Stetson was to rise again. Afraid she was grasping at false hope, Amanda challenged her son's declaration. "Jamie, you can't mean you actually saw Lee. Maybe you dreamed about him or imagined him coming to rescue us."

"Mom," Phillip insisted, "we really saw him, talked to him, and touched him. He's here in flesh and blood."

"You have to believe us," Jamie pleaded. "The rapids banged him up pretty bad yesterday, but Lee's been striving with every breath to save us all. I don't know how much longer he can hold up. He's in a lot of pain."

A whimper emanated from Amanda's lips as she finally trusted the truth and embraced the revelation that her husband had defied death. Thank God, he'd beaten the odds, but how many times could they outwit the enemy and run for their lives? Trembling with elation, uncertainty, and fear, she wondered if providence could grant them a safe passage one more time today. "I have to get to Lee," she murmured, wiping away a trace of tears on her face.

"You can't. Not alone," Jamie warned as he tightened his scrawny arm around her waist. "A federal agent is being held, too. The Soviets plan to take Lee and Mr. Melrose to Moscow, but, so far, they haven't been able to find a passable back road out of the forest. Mom, I'm afraid the Russians will shoot them."

"And don't forget the forest ranger in our group," Phillip added. "The thugs may have already killed him."

"Oh, Lord." If she didn't think of something quick, her brief surge of unmitigated joy may soon be crushed again by unspeakable sorrow. Amanda wrung her hands and pondered their quandary. As a mother, she wanted nothing more than to drive the boys back to the river, but as a devoted wife and dedicated federal agent, she couldn't bear to leave her injured husband and their loyal supervisor with the ruthless KGB.

"Okay," she finally said, guiding them toward her vehicle and out of sight of the cabin. "I have to entrust you guys with adult responsibility. Retrieving the jeep keys from her pocket, she carefully placed them in Phillip's hand. "Despite your sneaking around behind my back, I know Lee's been teaching you to drive. Now, in this situation, the premature lessons may be our best hope. Do you think you can safely transport your brother down the narrow mountain road?"

"Sure," Phillip said with teenage audacity. "Lee let me drive on our weekend at Mr. Crump's cabin. Remember, there was a jeep in the garage, and we drove that baby into the woods and over the hills on a wild joy ride."

"No, I don't remember, because I was never informed," she said frankly. "However, that oversight hardly matters now that I need your expertise." Placing her hands around their shoulders, she laid out a plan. "Listen carefully, boys. I want you to fasten your seatbelts and very slowly drive down the mountain. When you get to the bottom, make a right hand turn and follow the road back to the river. Once you're there, honk the horn, yell and scream, or build a small fire. Try anything sensible to attract attention."

"There's one little problem," Phillip announced as he pointed at his badly scraped bare feet. "I don't have any shoes. They might come in handy for driving."

Amanda winced at the sight of the abrasions on her son's feet. "You'll have to borrow your brother's shoes. Fortunately you guys wear the same size."

"Maybe fortunate for him," Jamie complained as he removed his sneakers. Then his face lit up as inspiration struck. "If Phillip doesn't wreck the jeep before we reach the river, I can show him the way back to the lodge. That way I don't have to ruin my feet, and we'll find help sooner."

"Good plan. I have confidence in you both," Amanda said, realizing the crazy wilderness vacation had stolen the last of the boys' childhood innocence. After surviving the rapids and living through two days of terror, they were maturing into brave young men. Hugging each son, she whispered her final instructions. "Now be careful. Until you're off the mountain, quiet is better than quick."

Looking bold with his new authority, Phillip behaved like King Arthur had just proclaimed him a Knight of the Round Table. Drawing himself up to his full five feet, six inches, he addressed his mother as if he was the parent and she was his child. "Mom, what are you going to do? Staying here is too dangerous for a lone, defenseless woman."

"Defenseless, nothing." Flexing her muscles for effect," Amanda concealed her own anxiety. "See, I'm a lot stronger than I look." Tempted to reassure them by citing her Agency training, she instead kept her covert life a secret. "Trust me; I promise to be extra cautious."

"Do you still have the gun from the campsite?" Jamie asked.

She merely patted her vest pocket. "Right where I left it."

Phillip was dubious about her capabilities. "Mom, you hate guns," he said. "You wouldn't shoot someone if your life depended on it." Pulling up his shirt, he yanked an object off the waistband of his pants. "Maybe you'd better take my Jim Bowie knife for protection. "After all, you're the one who taught me how to throw it."

"Thanks," she said, strapping the sheath to her body.

Pleased with the arrangement, Phillip turned to his brother. "Okay, geek, let's mount up."

As they walked away, Jamie called over his shoulder. "We both know that Lee's our stepdad, and we're okay with the news. I even apologized to him."

"That's really good to hear, sweetheart," she replied. Sighing gratefully, she watched her cherished sons climb into the jeep and fasten their seatbelts. In seconds, Phillip started the engine and neatly backed onto the road. As they disappeared from sight, she wondered if the Stetsons and Kings would ever get to live together like a normal family.

Then relegating her heart's desire to the recesses of her mind, she focused on her daunting task and the formidable foes who held a forest ranger and two of the country's best federal agents. "You can do this," she told herself as she ventured toward whatever macabre scene awaited her rescue efforts.

Avoiding the open spaces, Amanda hugged the woodsy boundary as she sprinted toward the cabin. When she reached her destination, she flattened herself against the outside wall and waited for an opportune time to enter. Barely a minute passed before the heavy oak door groaned on its hinges, and an armed stranger charged onto the porch. Hurrying into the yard, his heavy boots pounded gravel as he made a beeline for the truck.

"Oh, no," she murmured, realizing he may inspect the empty trailer, too. Not waiting for the discovery, she drew her gun and scooted inside the building before the door could slam closed.

Voices reverberated down the stairwell as Gregory and a comrade appeared on the landing. Quickly seeking refuge, she chose a closet and backed her way inside. Leaving the door ajar, she watched the twosome turn the corner and pass her hiding place.

"Umm," came a muffled moan behind her. Then a warm body pressed against her back

Amanda stifled a scream. "Lee?" she whispered, hoping she'd found her husband. Whirling around, her regret was immediate when she registered the mistaken identity. Swallowing yet another bitter pill, she took pity on her unwitting companion whose arms were stretched over his head and bound to the ceiling pipe. Reacting quickly, she removed his gag and untied his hands. "I'm Amanda King," she said. "I assume by your uniform you're a forest ranger."

"Yes, ma'am. My name is Roy Redmond. May I assume you're the rafting victim who's been missing for the last thirty hours?"

"Correct," she said. "I've been tailing you all afternoon and found your jeep in the forest. When I drove it here, I discovered my sons in a horse trailer. Where are the others?"

The ranger sighed as he rubbed his wrists and shook the circulation back into his fingers. "I suspect Melrose and Stetson are being roughly interrogated upstairs. Shouts and screams have been coming from above for hours."

Amanda cringed. "I feared torture would be part of the Russians' strategy."

"Yeah, the thugs don't play nice," Roy said. "At some point, they plan to shoot me. I think they're keeping me alive for now because they may require my services to guide them out of the forest on foot."

"Well, we can't allow that to happen."

Suddenly the front door opened again and the returning assailant dashed inside the entryway. "They're gone," he bellowed. "The boys have escaped."

Gregory and his comrade ran down the hall and followed their associate outside.

Hearing their voices fade, Amanda barged out of the closet. "Come on, we have to find Lee and Mr. Melrose before your keepers return."

Rushing up the stairs, the ranger led the way. "In here," he said as he turned a key and opened the makeshift prison door.

Amanda came up short as she took in the horrific scene. The suffocating heat hit her like a fireball, and the repugnant odor made her gag. Seemingly unconscious, Billy and Lee lay bound and gagged on the floor. Their breathing was ragged and their bodies were awash in perspiration.

"They've probably been drugged and pushed to total exhaustion," Roy explained as he checked on Billy.

Petrified, Amanda dropped to the floor and tenderly positioned Lee's head upon her lap. Running her shaking hand through the crown of his disheveled hair, she removed his gag and placed a soft kiss upon his flaccid lips—a sacred pleasure she'd never expected to experience again.

Lifting his t-shirt, she saw the dark bruising on his trunk and the tape around his ribs. Despite the assault to his body and the damp muddied clothes he wore, in her eyes he was the most extraordinary sight she'd ever seen. Holding her hand over his beating heart, she finally convinced herself that her husband was truly back in her arms. "Lee," she called against his ear, but, even her voice failed to rouse him.

"Ma'am," Roy said, as he joined her. "The assailants took my gun, so unless you have more fire power than the well-armed Russians, we really can't attempt to drag two unconscious men out of here."

Tearing her eyes from Lee, Amanda nodded in agreement. "I only have Lee's revolver," she said, removing it from her vest pocket. "Here, you'd better carry the gun. My aim's pretty good at fifty feet, but beyond sixty feet, it's iffy. My sons took the jeep to get help, so we have to hold out until the troops arrive."

As a door slammed downstairs, the sound of angry voices wafted to their ears. "We're trapped," Roy announced. "We'll have to improvise."

Dashing toward the second-story window, they both climbed out on the roof and perused their options. Seeing the drain pipe running down the outside wall, they nodded in agreement. Roy went first, grabbing the pipe with both hands and bracing his feet against the side of the cabin. Slowly, he descended until he could safely jump. "Come on," he whispered as he beckoned for Amanda to follow. As she shinnied down the pipe, he gripped her legs and eased her to safety.

"Head for the woods," Amanda whispered, as she hit the ground running.

* * *

 **Remains of the Day**

Slowly, Lee awoke from the deep oblivion that wiped his mind and immobilized his body. As he pushed through the drug induced state, pain struck his frame with the force of a World War II German tank. Now he remembered the thugs who'd interrogated him for hours, prying for vital information. Despite their brutality, he'd stuck to his mantra. "Give it, up," the Russians had yelled at both their captives, but neither he nor Billy had betrayed their country—yet.

Shoving the misery from his mind, Lee dwelt on thoughts of Amanda to ease his pain. Running his tongue over his parched lips, he felt oddly comforted. He could almost taste a sweet kiss from his wife. Even his limbs relaxed at the thought of her gentle fingers caressing his abused body. God, he had to find her, even if it meant sacrificing his own life.

With new resolve, Lee wrestled with the ropes that bound his hands and feet. Try as he might, his plethora of injuries defied his hope for escape. Billy was in the same predicament. Huffing and puffing, Melrose fought a losing battle as he strained against the ropes.

Chanting a chorus of grunts and groans while they labored for release, the two men failed to notice the return of their nemesis. "Well, well, look at this," Gregory said as he materialized in the sweltering room. "I do believe my victims still have fight left in them."

"Go to Hell," Lee growled.

"Me?" the Russian mocked. "Scarecrow, I think you're both pretty close to the netherworld of the damned. Since you failed to share your secrets, and the other hostages escaped, the worth of your lives has greatly decreased in value."

Lee exchanged a relieved glance with Billy. At least the kids and the ranger were safe.

"Face it, you're trapped," Melrose hissed as Gregory tore the gag from his mouth. "It's only a matter of time before the search parties find all of us."

"True," Gregory retorted, his demeanor composed. "Therefore, I must abandon my captives and depart with my comrades. Traveling light will be the wisest choice."

"Are you just going to leave us here?" Lee asked, knowing full well the Russians would opt for something more dramatic.

"To be rescued? Not a chance, Scarecrow. I'll rid myself of useless baggage, and no one will be the wiser. Maybe a high dive demonstration will be a fitting end to your wilderness adventure."

"Dive?" Melrose queried.

"Yes, off the cliff. As we speak, the sun is setting behind the magnificent Allegheny Mountains, so the scenery will offer a breathtaking backdrop for your final farewell. A flying leap above the river rapids should excite the senses until you hit bottom. Your bodies may not wash up on the shoreline for days, or weeks, or ever."

The dreadful news shattered Billy and Lee's last hope, but the appalling plan could barely register in their minds before the remaining Russian brigade arrived to untie the captives. Pulling them to their feet and holding guns to their sides, the communists paraded them down the stairs and out the door into the dwindling daylight.

With the Russians armed to the max, Lee resigned himself to certain death. There was little time for regrets or what-ifs. Soon his chaotic life would be over, and many secrets gathered in the dangerous spy game would go with him to the grave. Even the fleeting happiness allotted to him in thirty-eight years was experienced in the shadows. Most of his friends and colleagues would never know of the great love he found with his beautiful Amanda. The very thought of her would be his sole comfort in his final moments.

However, the loss of his wife forever was unthinkable. Like a soldier in a foxhole, he fervently hoped for an afterlife. He'd never seriously entertained the thought, especially after his parents died and his uncle convinced him that "dead is dead." However, lately, the idea of eternal life held some merit. Finding a soul mate and falling in love had opened his mind to thoughts of eternity. After a lifetime of loneliness, a simple housewife had unlocked his heart and proven love was boundless. Maybe life couldn't be contained either. Maybe, Amanda's spirit was on the other side of a place he couldn't begin to imagine. Maybe she'd already died and was waiting for him to join her in some alternative universe. Maybe her love conquered . . . ."

Then his breath caught, and he saw an amazing sight—the flash of a dark mane, alabaster limbs, and the swift movement of a graceful creature silently running along the edge of the forest. What was it? Dizzy and confused, his eyes couldn't discern a coyote from a whitetail deer. Certainly his vision was playing cruel tricks. But, still watching the lithe phantom, his heart convinced him of something his mind struggled to validate. Amanda was alive, and she was present and accounted for at his moment of doom.

Careful to protect her limited cover, he barely acknowledged the earnest face, now peering at him from behind a tree. Slowly, but surely, she was progressing closer. He wanted to smile when he recognized her attire. Amanda was still wearing a khaki vest and faded cut-off jeans. Her arms and legs were bare and her sneakers appeared caked with mud. With the fading sunlight casting shadows over the trees, it was little wonder she blended in so well.

As she encroached on his march toward death, his fears for her safety grew. God, did he want Amanda to attempt a rescue with no backup? More than anything else, he hoped she would turn and run, find her boys, and go home for good. The risk she was taking was equivalent to a suicide mission. If Gregory nabbed her, he'd revel in a paramount production, undoubtedly ending with Scarecrow and Mrs. King jumping hand in hand off the mountain precipice.

Desperate to halt her actions, he decided to provoke the wrath of the Russians by making himself a target for an AK-47 bullet. About to throw a fit, his mind changed again when another player appeared in his line of vision. Amazingly Amanda wasn't alone. Ranger Redman, with gun readied, was crouched behind a fence. Maybe he should let them play their hand. Repressing his worst fear, he continued walking toward a showdown. With each step, he implored the universe to shield the ragtag team who would dare to challenge the greater strength of the Soviets.

"Here we are, gentlemen," Gregory said with a wry smile that mocked their certain demise. "Quite a view."

Pushed to the edge, Lee and Billy barely caught their balance before they could tumble to their death. The cliff was a solid wall of rock with an unobstructed view of the roiling rapids far beneath them. Downstream the river plunged over the steep falls and surged its way through the gorge narrows.

Catching Billy's poignant gaze, Lee silently concurred that their end was near. If Amanda and Roy were going to intervene they'd probably missed their best chance. Maybe they realized their plan would only add two more Americans to the list of dead.

Then it happened. A shot rang out, and the burly Russian collapsed to the ground, a bullet lodged in his back. Immediately his comrade spun toward the fence and fired his gun, striking the ranger in the shoulder.

In tandem, Stetson lunged at Gregory, and Melrose threw his weight at the gunman, knocking the smaller Russian off his feet.

As Billy wrestled his foe, Lee struggled with his lanky nemesis who proved superior to the challenge. Locked in a vicious bear hug, they moved dangerously close to the edge and flirted with the looming abyss. Finally freeing a hand, Gregory shoved against his rival's face, thrusting him toward the brink.

With sheer grit, Lee shoved back and broke free of his adversary. Now completely out of strength, his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground. Laboring to breathe, his eyes searched in vain for one last glimpse of his beloved Amanda. Instead, all he saw was Billy slowly rising from his foe, but not in time to come to his rescue.

Closing in, a confident Gregory stretched out a long leg to give the decisive push. "You've been a worthy opponent, Stetson," the Russian said as his boot pressed hard against Lee's shoulder. "Too bad the mighty Scarecrow must die."

Then as his body was forced to the edge, Lee saw a whirling object sail through the air and meet its mark with deadly accuracy.

Surprised by the attack, Gregory's eyes widened with shock. Falling forward with a knife stuck between his shoulder blades, the Russian tumbled over his foe and plunged off the cliff.

Stunned that he'd been spared, Lee gazed over the rim and watched in horror as his long-time nemesis plummeted to his death.

In seconds, Amanda was there, helping Lee to his feet and wrapping him in her arms. "Sweetheart," she rasped, her voice quivering with emotion.

Clinging to his wife, Lee felt her trembling against his frame. My God, he realized—Amanda killed Gregory. Knowing how conflicted she'd feel by her deadly action, he grasped her face between his hands. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Pale and dazed, Amanda stared back at her husband. "I didn't want to kill him," she cried as she leaned into his arms once more and buried her face against the hollow of his neck. "I just couldn't let him shove you off the cliff."

"I know. I know," he soothed as he rocked her slender frame. "You did what you had to do to save my life. You rose to the challenge in a live or die moment with a perfectly executed maneuver."

In the distance, sirens wailed and emergency vehicles appeared on the horizon as the barely intact victors regrouped. The ranger, wounded but still functioning, stood guard over the surviving Russians while Billy joined his agents. "Amanda," he said, laying a big hand on her back. "Thank God, you survived. I've never been as proud of you as I am today."

"Thank you, sir," she said, her head still resting on her husband's chest.

"Of course, I'm proud of you, too, Stetson," Melrose affirmed with a benign slap on the shoulder.

"Likewise," Lee mumbled, reluctantly lifting his lips from the crown of Amanda's head. "I couldn't have made it through the last two days without you, Billy."

The section chief grinned at the twosome, the gleam in his eyes speaking volumes. "You make a great team—personally and professionally. When I paired-up Scarecrow with Mrs. King, it had to be a rare stroke of genius."

* * *

 **TBC**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: June 30, 1987 - Reunited  
**

The last remnants of shocking dreams slowly dissipated as Amanda fought the heavy shackles of deep sleep. Afraid to open her eyes to yet another wilderness horror, she waited for evidence of real life to displace the night terrors. Finally the familiar smell of antiseptics, the contact of fresh sheets, and the sting of the I.V. fastened to her hand assured her of the safe environment. Squinting through laden eyelids, she focused on the hospital bed, the stark walls, and the large hall clock that told her it was way past midnight.

"Oh God," she said as memories cleared her muddled brain. Four hours had passed since the contingency of agents, rangers, and medics had arrived in the emergency room. Ranger Redman had been whisked to surgery for the gunshot wound in his shoulder, and Billy had been admitted for observation.

Lee's condition was the most tenuous. Obviously winded from fighting to the death with Gregory, he'd exhibited disorientation and shortness of breath on the ambulance ride to the hospital. Clearly the mountaintop ordeal had exacerbated the head trauma and bruised ribs he'd acquired on the roiling river.

In complete denial about her own state of being, Amanda had rushed beside Lee's gurney, afraid if she let go of his hand, she'd never see him again. Only after Francine held her back, and she'd helplessly watched her semi-conscious husband disappear behind the swinging doors, had her own body demanded attention. With the room spinning, she'd stumbled toward a chair and collapsed into oblivion before anyone or anything could break her fall.

She vaguely remembered regaining consciousness in the ER as someone stitched her wound. Now a throbbing headache confirmed the injury. Touching the area above her eyes, her fingers found the bandage neatly covering her forehead. "Oh, great," she moaned as her hand automatically reached for the nightstand's top drawer. Fumbling for a mirror, she gathered her courage to study the damage. Staring back at her was a gaunt and ghostly white face that testified to her living nightmare. To complete the Gothic look was a black and blue shiner under her eye.

Bruising was also evident on her hand where an I.V. was attached. Most likely she was malnourished and dehydrated, consequences she'd suffered from her two days with little to eat and drink.

At least someone had assumed the task of washing the grime and blood from her hair and body. She didn't want to look like death warmed over when she greeted her husband again. As if wishing could make him appear, she rolled her head to the side to check the other hospital bed. "Empty," she sighed. Certainly, it was pure fantasy to imagine Lee would be lying there beside her.

The rapid tap of footsteps hurrying down the hospital corridor signaled Dotty West's arrival on the cordoned off wing. "Where is she?" her shrill voice called to someone in the hall. "I want to see my daughter, Amanda King."

"I'll have to get clearance, ma'am," announced the voice of Agent Duffy, apparently standing guard and blocking Dotty's access.

"Let her pass, Frank," came the authoritarian command of Francine Desmond.

As the door inched open, the concerned face of Dorothea West peered into the room. The sight of her daughter brought her up short. "Oh, dear God," she gasped as her brightly colored nails formed a steeple against her chin.

Amanda held out the hand tethered to an I.V. "Mother," she called, relief and love evident in the single word.

Tears trailed down Dotty's cheeks as she rushed to her daughter's side, kissed her tenderly, and brushed a trembling hand through her hair. "Amanda, I never gave up on you, not even in the darkest moments."

"We all made it," Amanda rasped. "Even, Lee—I hope."

"Yes, thank God, Lee made it, too," Dotty said. "Ms. Desmond assured me your husband will recover. However, he's exacerbated the concussion and the injury to his ribs, so he'll be hospitalized for several days."

"Did he break any ribs?"

"No, but the pain is dreadful, so he won't be keeping his promise to jump out of a cake in your honor."

Amanda smiled at the very suggestion of Lee popping out of a cake. "Mother, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, just a vow he made while you were still missing," Dotty said with a wry grin. "We were hoping you and Phillip would be found safe and sound, so we could celebrate your return. Lee pledged to be the entertainment."

"Too bad none of us are feeling up for a party."

"I'm sure Lee will have better ways to entertain you when the doctor signs a release," Dotty said with wink.

"Moth-er!" Turning her head, Amanda feigned a cough and changed the subject to her more pressing concern. "How are the boys?"

"When I left the lodge they were still basking in the glow of their thrilling escape," Dotty said with the exuberance of a proud grandmother. "A medic bandaged Phillip's feet and ordered both boys to bed for the night. However, they considered his advice a personal affront to their new found hero status."

Amanda was gratified by her sons' accomplishments. "Phillip and Jamie deserve to feel proud. They bore the responsibilities of adults in the face of grave danger."

"Well, they're not grown-up yet. Their childish behavior was back in full force when they fought over television programs and ordered foot-long hot dogs, a pitcher of Mountain Dew, Frosted Pop-Tarts, and hot fudge sundaes."

"Oh, Mother."

Dotty was resolute and offered no apology for indulging the boys. "I realize I shouldn't spoil them, but junk food won't kill them this once. However, I can't say the same for driving without a license." The family matriarch crossed her arms in her best scolding pose.

Amanda withered under the penetrating gaze. "You're right, Mother. Giving Phillip car keys was the height of irresponsibility."

Dotty relented immediately. "Dear, I'm sure you had a perfectly logical reason, and I certainly don't wish to criticize your parenting, but I nearly fainted when our fourteen-year-old appeared behind the wheel of a jeep and roared onto the lodge grounds. While I was grateful beyond words for the safe return of my grandsons, I feared Phillip had been recruited and inadequately trained by the Agency."

"Actually, Mother, he was recruited by me, but trained by his stepfather. You may remember my concern when Lee taught Phillip to back the Wagoneer down our driveway? Then there were additional lessons on private property."

"Yes, Darling, when teaching teens to drive, men often grant too much liberty, but hopefully under strict supervision."

"Well, Lee was certainly too permissive, but his leniency proved prophetic. When I had no other choice, I felt Phillip could manage the jeep and flee from a dangerous situation with his brother."

"Yes, I understand, Amanda," Dotty said, as she lovingly stroked her daughter's cheek. "Sending the boys to safer ground was paramount, and their daring actions did result in a timely rescue. Darling, your decision was heroic, too."

"Thank you, Mother. I hope the boys were careful and returned the jeep intact."

Dotty cringed. "I was on the porch and saw them coming. When Phillip took the speed bump much too fast, the jeep careened over the pavement with a jarring thud and then rattled across the lawn like an out-of-control race car. You should have seen the senior citizens scatter."

"Oh, no," Amanda whimpered, horrified by the image of elderly guests on canes and walkers scurrying from a run-away vehicle.

"No harm done, Darling. Phillip didn't destroy anything too expensive—just the Grand Gorge Lodge flowerbed and some Adirondack chairs, but that's a story for another day."

"Dear Lord," Amanda groaned as she covered her face with her hands.

Francine picked that moment to hurry into the room. "Glad to see you've been revived, Amanda. Guess who's demanding to see you."

"Is Lee here?" she asked, doubtful that her husband had the physical ability to escape his keepers yet.

"No, he's been down for the count for hours, but now he's awake and itching for a fight with hospital personnel if they don't produce you soon."

"Oh my gosh," Amanda said as she shot her mother a knowing look.

"Have they tried putting him in irons?" Dotty asked in all seriousness. "Lee Stetson doesn't know when to quit."

Amanda threw the covers aside and began pulling off the tape holding her I.V. in place.

"Wait," Dotty cautioned. "Let me get a nurse and a wheelchair."

"Oh, great," Francine said with a pained look. "Now you're thumbing your nose at the hospital rules, too. I should have expected as much from someone foolish enough to marry Lee Stetson."

Amanda gasped. "You know?"

"Yes, but way too late to talk any sense into Scarecrow and Mrs. King," the blonde said with smoldering indignation. "What a mess you two created with your deception. If you'd at least informed Billy, Lee may never have been sent on a long term assignment behind the Iron Curtain. I just hope you don't live to regret your marriage."

Amanda shook her head at the audacity. "You have that wrong. Lee and I just want to live to enjoy our marriage—for all the days of our lives."

Francine had the grace to soften her demeanor. "Sorry, I guess the shock and the hurt haven't worn off yet. Discovering my closest colleagues deceived me felt like a slap in the face. Believe it or not, I am rooting for both of you."

"Thank you," Amanda said, knowing full well that she hadn't heard the last of the Desmond views on their clandestine marriage.

They were spared anymore ruffled feelings as Dotty backed a wheelchair into the room. "Here we are, Darling."

Nurse Maureen was right on her heels. "This is totally against protocol," she chided, wagging a finger at everyone. "You government types always flout the rules." Then helping Amanda into the chair, she positioned the I.V. pole beside her as the others lined up for the parade.

"I'll be taking over from here, Frank," Francine said as they passed Agent Duffy in the hall. "You can have the rest of the night off." Then bending over Amanda, she whispered in her ear. "Billy doesn't want any rumors spreading about Scarecrow and Mrs. King, so he's ordered me to guard both you and Lee tonight."

"And how do you propose to watch both of us?"

"The only possible solution will require shared accommodations," Francine said, firmly in authoritarian mode. "Scarecrow's room isn't the honeymoon suite, so don't get any ideas."

Amanda merely rolled her eyes, bracing for the additional barbs that would surely come from her irked colleague.

As the ensemble marched through the doorway of Lee's room, his bruised and somber face morphed into a smile. "Amanda," he sighed, her name sounding sacred upon his lips.

"Hi, Sweetheart," she replied as their gazes locked. "Apparently we're going to be roommates."

Lee's grin widened. "That's fine with me." Then solemn again, he studied her carefully. "What happened to your forehead?"

"I fainted in the ER and banged my head on the way down. Too much excitement, I guess."

Nurse Maureen picked that moment to step between the couple, ending their short exchange. All business, she pushed the wheelchair next to the spare bed and proceeded to turn down the covers before settling her patient upon the mattress. Amanda bit her lip, remembering the annoying maid on their wedding night who kept Mr. and Mrs. Stetson apart for interminable minutes as she finished making the bed. How much more could she endure before allowed to breach the cavernous divide that separated her from Lee?

Her mother wasn't satisfied either. Like an interior decorator, Dotty scrutinized the room. "Inches can feel like miles under these circumstances. I think the beds should be closer."

"This isn't a Virginia Beach condominium, ma'am," Nurse Maureen replied with biting sarcasm.

"You'd better listen to the lady," Lee warned. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer me to get out of bed later and move the furniture myself."

Francine intervened. "For everyone's sake, let's just humor him tonight."

"Fine," the nurse said, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "But, anymore flagrant disobedience will be written up and placed on my supervisor's desk." With the help of Francine and Dotty, the three pushed the beds closer together. Then with hands on hips, Nurse Maureen dared him to try her patience again. "Is there anything else you want—maybe a bedpan, a back rub, or a bottle of champagne?"

"Just privacy," Lee growled.

"Well then, that's our cue," Francine said, following the nurse out. "Don't forget, children. Big sister will be watching."

Dotty lingered long enough to plant a kiss on both their cheeks. "I know you two will take good care of each other, so I'll head back to the lodge to ride herd on the boys." Pulling the privacy curtain partially closed, she paused for one more piece of sage advice. "Behave yourselves."

"Yes, Mother," they said in tandem. "Goodnight."

Finally alone, Amanda stretched across the chasm, but couldn't quite reach Lee. "We keep meeting in such challenging settings."

"Yeah, I'm certainly tired of my nomadic life," he said as his hand met hers half-way. "Can't you at least join me? It's been nearly three months since we shared an actual bed."

Amanda hesitated. "Sweetheart, room privileges don't mean bed privileges. Besides, I've been told you're in pretty bad shape, so your body needs to rest tonight."

"Come here, and we'll test my strength together."

Ignoring common sense, she maneuvered the I.V. pole to her husband's bed. Then as she seated herself on the edge of the mattress, Lee snorted. "Hey, I like your new look."

"Oh, you noticed my black eye, huh? It was a souvenir from my fall."

"Not your eye," he said. "I'm talking about your striking new garment. You've worn many tantalizing low-back gowns before, but this one takes daring to a new level."

Amanda's hand flew behind her and connected with skin. "Don't laugh, Buster. You're wearing a matching outfit. The medical staff thinks nothing of parading around the sick and injured while indecently attired. I think the healthcare industry conspires to rob their patients of dignity in order to keep them humble and submissive."

"Yeah, the damn hospital gowns are more demeaning than prison jumpsuits," Lee replied while attempting to tug his own garment down to his knees. "One size doesn't fit all."

As Amanda stretched out beside her husband, Lee pulled the blanket over them. "Now if we can just disentangle our I.V. lines maybe we can give each other a decent hug," he said. Cautiously, they both held their breath while he struggled to move a stubborn cord over her head.

Amanda grinned as old memories came to the fore. "This reminds me of the time we were shackled together and forced to spend the night in a Virginia swamp," she teased. "The assignment marked our very first overnight together, huddled in each other's arms."

"Purely out of necessity," he reminded her, trying to keep a straight face. "We needed body heat to keep us warm."

Shaking her head, Amanda protested his version of the story. "Maybe you saw our physical closeness as a simple practicality, but to me it was an intimate encounter filled with alluring possibilities. Unfortunately, we wasted the opportunity by arguing over the logistics of sleeping positions."

"Hey, that wasn't my fault," Lee said, shooting her an incredulous look. "Remember, I distinctly informed you that I always slept on my right side, but you insisted on sleeping on your left. Laying face to face was inappropriate for two people unwilling to admit their burgeoning mutual attraction."

"Well, you'd already shattered that fallacy soon after I'd built the small fire. You came within a hair's breadth of bestowing an authentic kiss on my waiting lips."

"Yes, Amanda, but I came to my senses when the bad guys sprayed our tiny campsite with bullets. There wasn't much chance to succumb to temptation with killers staked out on the perimeter of the swamp."

"Wet, muddy clothes weren't conducive to romance either," Amanda reminded him as she turned on her side to gaze into his eyes. Stretching an arm over Lee, the ties on the back of her gown came undone, and the skimpy garment drooped off her shoulders.

Lee's searching hand found purchase immediately. "The flimsy hospital get-ups do come with advantages," he said, desire evident in his raspy voice.

"That's right, big fella. There are no pesky buttons or zippers to hamper full body access."

"All the better to hug you, my dear," Lee teased as he pulled her tightly against his frame. Then defying his aches and pains, he leaned in and claimed her mouth with a long sensual kiss.

Responding with equal fervor, Amanda ignored the nagging concern about his injuries. Part of her knew this was not the time to wantonly explore the heights and depths of their passion, but the small voice of reason was fading fast.

She needn't worry. Suddenly the door squeaked on its hinges, and they hastily pulled apart, both breathless from their encounter.

"What the Hell is this," Lee barked. "Bed check?"

"Lights out," Francine called with a tinge of laughter in her voice as she entered the room and flipped off the switch. "Time for beddy-bye."

"Goodnight," Amanda called from behind the curtain. As the door whooshed close, she questioned Lee. "Do you think she intentionally sabotaged our most personal moment?"

"Francine always did have the worst timing," he huffed. "Leave it to her to invade our privacy and kill the mood."

"Actually she saved us from ourselves." Resigned to their limitations, Amanda snuggled against Lee's long frame and soothed him with a light caress. "After all, we are patients, and we need to allow time for healing."

"My point entirely," he countered as weariness crept back into his voice. "You have a healing touch."

"Well, under the present circumstances, my touch may become too potent. I'd rather not have to explain to the doctor that my husband died tonight from too much physical exertion."

"Humph," he grunted. "I'd die a happy man."

"And make me an unhappy widow." Her fingers lovingly stroked through his hair. "Sweetheart, we can endure the wait a little longer. Remember, anticipation is half the pleasure of intimacy."

"But not the best half," he murmured as his firm grip loosened and he drifted toward sleep. Then as his eyes fluttered close, he managed one more slurred declaration. "Amanda, I'll be fine. You've always cured whatever ails me."

* * *

 **Tag: July 4, 1987 - Washington D.C.  
**

July 4th dawned with azure skies and bright sunshine—a perfect day for the nationwide picnic. At ten o'clock, the Stetson-King-West clan arrived at the National Mall in Washington D.C. for the Independence Day celebration. With a full day on the docket, they paced themselves with frequent respites under shady trees and tall cups of lemonade to quench their thirst.

The family chose a challenging schedule—visits to the monuments, a parade along Constitution Avenue, a stop at the National Archives for a dramatic reading of the Declaration of Independence, and ample time at the Smithsonian Folklife Festival where they could enjoy crafts, music, and dance performances.

The day was hardest on Lee and Joe, so they sat down wherever they found an empty bench. Both men were still recovering, so they spent a lot of time talking while Amanda, Dotty, and Carrie perused the crafts and watched the cooking demonstrations at the festival. The boys found friends from school and took off for long periods on their own.

Talk of politics, baseball, and home repairs dominated Lee and Joe's conversation. Both seemed determine to keep the wilderness misadventure safely in the past which was fine with Lee since he'd made a personal vow to honor family holiday gatherings. Keeping the commitment seemed easy when he was five thousand miles away in the Soviet Union, but now, four hours into the clan gathering, he was already experiencing compassion fatigue. Just when he reached his limit of togetherness, a breathless Jamie ran up and inserted himself between his two dads.

"Phillip told," the boy said in a rush.

"Told what?" both men asked in tandem.

"The need-to-know stuff," Jamie whispered.

Lee caught on immediately. "Do you mean the details of our recent vacation?"

"Yep, nearly all of it—the Soviets, the federal agents, and our ride in the jeep. Phillip bragged to his friend about driving through the West Virginia forest. Andy didn't believe him, so the doofus kept spilling more and more details."

"Hell," Lee hissed.

Joe's amicable face darkened into a scowl. "This is exactly what I feared would happen." Struggling to his feet, the alarmed father beckoned to his youngest. "I'll deal with Phillip. Come on, son," he said as he placed an arm around Jamie's shoulders.

"Wait." Wincing in pain as he jumped to his feet, Lee overtook the pair. "Secrets are my department, so let me handle it."

"What's going on?" Amanda asked as she hurried from the craft tent, apparently aware of the tension brewing between the men."

Before either man could open his mouth to speak, Jamie blurted out the news. "Phillip broke his national security promise. He squealed to Andy."

"Rat-fink," Phillip cried as he walked into the middle of the family scrimmage and gave his brother a shove. "Who do you think you are, 'Deep Throat'?"

"Who's Deep Throat?" Jamie demanded, clenching his fists in barely controlled anger.

"A whistle blower," Phillip shouted. "If you're supposed to be so smart, you should know about President Nixon and the Watergate break-in."

Standing toe to toe with his brother, Jamie's temper flared. "I know more about Watergate than you do. If you really cared about the government, you'd keep your big mouth shut for the sake of national security."

"Enough," Amanda said as Joe caught Jamie's arm, and Lee collared Phillip. "This is a conversation to have in privacy, so not another word until we can discuss the issue without an audience."

Amanda consulted her watch and then addressed her former spouse. "Will you excuse us? Lee and I need to have a cooling off period with the boys and discuss the finer points of confidentiality. Why don't you wait here for Mother and Carrie to finish their shopping? Then we can all plan to meet again at six o'clock on the Capitol's west lawn so we can stake out a good place to see the concert and the fireworks."

Joe shook his head. "Carrie and I won't be staying. The day's activities have worn me out." Looking contrite, he turned to the other father figure. "I'll be grateful for you and Amanda to handle Phillip's violation. Secrets really are your domain."

Lee proffered his hand, relieved that Joe relinquished the task without creating hard feelings. "We'll bring you into the loop after we assess the damage and reiterate the importance of an oath."

* * *

Phillip and Jamie seated themselves in the shade of the Capitol building, away from any unwanted eyes or ears. Then kneeling in front of them, Amanda initiated the conversation. "Boys, we thought you understood your obligation. Neither of you are allowed to mention our run-in with Soviet spies. You made an oath to that effect."

"I didn't break my promise," Jamie said. "Phillip did."

"Yes, but by announcing his breach in public, you created a scene and exposed the secret to bystanders."

"See, meathead," Phillip scolded. "Tattling got you in trouble."

Impeding another quarrel between her sons, Amanda intervened. "No, Phillip, your brother's not to blame. Jamie was right to confide in us. As your parents, we need to be informed when either of you does something dangerous. Both of you should realize that exposing national secrets presents a risk to all of us."

With eyes downcast, they nodded their heads. "Yeah, we get it," the oldest said, allowing a flicker of remorse to flash across his face.

As Lee silently crouched beside her, Amanda took a calming breath. "Phillip, why in the world would you break your promise?" she asked, her voice thick with disappointment.

"Hey, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to squeal," the boy defended. "The story just slipped out when Andy and I talked about the cars we want to buy someday."

"I see," she said as she caught Lee's knowing look. "Did you brag to Andy about your experience behind the wheel of a jeep?"

"Yes."

"We need more details, Chief," Lee said as he joined the conversation. "What exactly did you tell Andy?"

Phillip shrugged. "Nothing much."

"Liar," Jamie said under his breath, but clamped his mouth closed when his brother shot him a hostile look.

Lee placed a hand on his younger stepson's knee as a way of warning and continued to interrogate Phillip. "Did you tell Andy about Soviet spies and Federal agents?"

The boy hesitated. "Well, I sort of mentioned meeting Russians in the forest, and I implied feds were crawling all over the place, but it's not a problem. Andy didn't believe me anyway."

Lee cringed at the boy's naivety. "Whether the kid believed the story or not, you can't be sure he won't repeat it to more friends. I hope you didn't implicate any of the Russians or feds by name."

"No way," Phillip shouted, incensed over the questions. "I'm not the snitch Jamie's making me out to be."

"What about the family?" Amanda asked with growing alarm. "Were any of our names referenced?"

Phillip kept everyone waiting while he untied and retied his shoe. "Yeah," he finally said, "I may have mentioned your names."

Amanda exchanged a wary glance with her husband. "Did you include Lee's name as family?"

"Sure, Lee admitted he's my stepdad."

Amanda sighed. "Phillip, we haven't told anyone in our neighborhood. You know our marriage is still privileged information. Lee hasn't officially moved in with us yet."

The teen's temper boiled over. "Jeez, what's to hide? It's not like we're in protective custody or something? Two documentary film people got married—big deal."

"Yeah, I don't understand either," Jamie said, coming to his brother's defense. "Now that you've revealed your marriage to us, the topic is still 'need-to-know'. Do you want us to imply that you're just shacking up?"

"NO," Lee and Amanda said in a rush.

"I understand the secrecy is difficult," she added, softening her tone. "However, other than our immediate supervisor at IFF and a close colleague, none of our co-workers know we're married."

Phillip was slaw-jawed. "Why?"

"It's complicated, Chief," Lee said. "Some businesses discourage fraternizing among the employees. One or both of us could be fired for marrying our co-worker."

"Then just quit," Phillip said, his teenage voice squeaking on the last word.

"And, live on what?" Jamie asked with fear evident in his voice. "Jeepers, will Phillip and I have to go live with Dad?"

"Of course not," Amanda said emphatically. "Boys, just trust us to work things out. Under the guidance of our boss, we'll decide when it's time to make the announcement at work, and then we'll face whatever consequences may or may not be prescribed. It could mean working in different departments from each other, or it could mean Lee and I will have to leave IFF. If that happens, we'll certainly find other options for employment."

Wide eyes carefully scrutinized them. "We have lots of other questions that you dodge," Jamie said, seizing the interrogation.

"Like what?" Lee asked, amazed at how quickly the boys turned the tables and put the adults on the defensive.

Jamie cut to the chase. "You seemed really friendly with Mr. Melrose and Miss Desmond. How come you know federal agents?"

Shielding his surprise, Lee hid behind his stiff Scarecrow façade. "As you may recall, our family met Mr. Melrose last year when there was a mix-up at work. And, too, they're a lot of federal agents in D.C., so it's not unusual to encounter them in everyday life."

"Yes, indeed," Amanda said cryptically. "You never can tell when you might bump into one."

Lee smiled at his wife, remembering the fateful day at the train station when he grabbed an unassuming housewife and shoved a package in her hands. "Keep in mind, guys, making government documentaries can involve sensitive information that's not meant for the general public."

"Oh, you mean classified material," Phillip said, suddenly interested. "I thought you only made boring films on tractors or polluted rivers. Maybe you filmed something of value that the KGB wanted to get their hands on."

"Possibly," Lee replied with a non-committal shrug.

"You never can be sure what the Soviets may want to steal," Amanda added truthfully. "However, please respect the fact that Lee and I work for the government, and the government has secrets."

Phillip whistled. "Boy, they must be awesome secrets for the Soviet spies to come after you."

Lee stood up and offered each boy a hand as he tugged the lightweights to their feet. "You guys just worry about protecting your own government secrets," he stated firmly. "Never forget that you promised to keep the whole incident confidential."

"Do you mean, forever?" Phillip asked.

"Yes."

As the boys walked on ahead and moved out of earshot, Lee slipped his arm around his wife. "So, are we going to tell them about our real jobs in espionage?"

"Not yet," she stated unequivocally. "If our boys don't know we're spies, then the fact won't accidentally slip from their lips. Agreed?"

"Agreed," he said, with a kernel of doubt plaguing his mind. "However, we can't expect to fool them for too much longer."

"Hey," Phillip called as he halted his brother and waited for his parents to catch up. "We thought of a great career choice for both of you."

A doubtful look passed between Lee and Amanda while they braced for the verdict. "Okay, let's hear it," she said.

Jamie spoke first. "Since you two know Agents Melrose and Desmond, and you sort of helped them capture the bad guys, maybe you could ask them to provide references."

"You mean to be federal agents?" Amanda feigned shock.

"Sure, why not?" Phillip countered. "Mr. Melrose owes you, so he could call in a few favors."

Lee ran his hand across the back of his neck. "Sounds like a tough life to me?"

Amanda cringed. "Your ideas have merit, but certainly you remember how much I detest guns. Carrying a weapon and knowing how to shoot would be a definite requirement."

"Yeah, but you could do it Mom," Jamie said. "You're really brave, and they'd give you training."

"Well, thank you for the suggestion and the vote of confidence." Smiling at the boys, she turned toward her husband. "What do you think, Sweetheart?"

Lee stifled a laugh and winked at his wife. "You never know, maybe someday."

* * *

Situated in coveted seats on the west lawn of the United States Capitol, Lee, Amanda, Dotty and the boys basked in the balmy evening. Amidst an enthusiastic crowd of thousands, they were entertained with patriotic music performed by the National Symphony Orchestra and the country's current pop artists.

Lee sighed with contentment as he allowed the perfect peace to ease his weary body. As Independence Day wound toward the slam bang finish of fireworks, he held tightly to his wife's hand and relished his role as family man.

Unable to sit still for long, Phillip and Jamie whooped and hollered and jumped to their feet whenever the beat of the music roused them to action. Joining the other youth and children on the grassy turf, they danced and waved their flags, with uninhibited enthusiasm.

Four little girls, dressed in identical dresses, and sporting red, white, and blue painted faces, pranced through the sea of guests as the band played John Phillip Sosa's march, "Stars and Stripes Forever." In their exuberance, the tiniest of the sisters lost her footing and landed in a heap at Lee's feet. As the parade passed her by, he reached for the wailing child in tandem with Amanda.

"Whoopsy Daisy," he said before he could stop himself. My God, he thought, whatever provoked those words to fly from his mouth? He must be channeling Dr. Smyth and his damn nursery rhymes.

"Whoopsy Daisy?" Amanda asked, her face astonished by his outburst.

Lee ignored the needling and comforted the child. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, setting the tiny girl on her feet. Concerned, he carefully looked her over as Amanda smoothed down the golden locks and wiped the tear stained cheeks.

Almost immediately, help arrived. "Mommy's here, darling," a woman chirped as the child flung herself into the waiting arms. With a grateful smile, the mother acknowledged her daughter's rescuers and scoped her little girl out of reach. "Thank you for comforting Molly."

"Glad to help," Amanda called as the twosome hurried after the older sisters. Then turning to Lee, she eyed him skeptically. "Whoopsy Daisy?" she repeated with a snort. "Never in a million years would I expect to hear those words roll off my husband's lips."

As Lee's mind searched in vain for a decent comeback, Dotty intervened. "Lee, dear, I think cherished memories from childhood are surfacing. Apparently you've been ignoring your inherited skill with children for far too long," she added with her unabashed knowing look.

"Yeah, well," he stammered. "My British mother recited the silly phrase whenever I took a tumble." Uncomfortable with the conversation, he quickly averted his eyes.

"Lee," Amanda rasped as she leaned in closer. "You never did finish your story about the little girl who provided the perfect cover for your escape from the Soviet Union."

Not wanting to have the discussion under Dotty's watchful gaze, he merely shook his head. "Later," he hissed between clenched teeth.

His wife persisted. "Apparently your newly discovered talent for soothing small children hasn't waned."

Lee sighed, realizing the moment of truth was upon him. Placing his arm around Amanda, he pulled her firmly against his side. "Your observation is right on the money. As surreal as it seems, I suddenly find myself drawn to little kids."

"Good," she said as she tickled his side. "Then your fascination makes our marital relationship ripe with possibilities. We can feed your new obsession any time you say the magic word."

"What magic word?" he questioned.

Her breath was warm against his ear. "Baby," she whispered. "As in our baby."

* * *

 **The End**


End file.
